


Underwater

by Anonymous



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Character Death, Crimes & Criminals, Gangs, Illness, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of War, Murder, NHEV, No Happy Ending Fest, Non-Linear Narrative, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Unhappy Ending, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Baekhyun stood in front of his house two days ago. There was a silence in the air, bloomed flowers were still spreading their warm and welcoming smells to Baekhyun’s senses. Even with the flowers to distract him, Baekhyun couldn't take his eyes off him, waiting with a gaze gleaming with love.Now, he was standing in front of the microphone, but there was an intolerable silence at the funeral, and the smell of the rain was fading away with tears drying on his cheek. He couldn’t help but look at the image of him in a frame this time. The photograph that reflected his smile breaks Baekhyun’s heart the most.“I love you.” He remembered his words, his spirit was so heavy with sorrow now. “I love you so much. And if I die, then I’ll be happy, because at least I knew you loved me.”
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Oh Sehun, Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3
Collections: No Happy Ending Fest - 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** R4-030  
>  **Prompt:** Baekhyun is cursed. Whoever he falls in love with dies, so he’s been avoiding love his whole life. However, when this stubborn and very attractive man shows up into his life, he finds himself fighting the feelings that are threatening to drown him.
> 
> “If I die, then I’ll be happy because at least I knew you loved me.”  
>  **Pairing/Main character(s):** Baekhyun/Chanyeol, Baekhyun/Sehun  
>  **Side Characters(if any):** Kim Jongin, Do Kyungsoo, Zhang Yixing, Kim Minseok, Kim Jongdae  
>  **Word Count:** 31.5 K  
>  **Warning(s)/Additional Tag(s):** Character Deaths, Murder, Violence, Mention of War, Mention of Blood, Mention of Gang, Crime, Illness, Myths  
>  **Author's note:** Hello to the most wonderful community! I wanna thank the mods first because they helped me a lot in this journey and I'll be grateful to them forever. And, M. My one and only beta. I couldn't do this without you. Thank you so so much for your time, kindness, wisdom, and guidance. I hope you enjoy this ride as much as I do.

Baekhyun touches his tattoo, his slender fingers wandering to the right side of his neck. The thin curves of the ivy contrasted his fair skin, the leaves spreading to the edges slightly and elegantly. He also hoped to get two flowers in the design, but the artist convinced him to not get them because the tattoo he picked was splendid enough as it is. Adding more details was unnecessary and would only bring him more pain.

“It’s done.” 

When Baekhyun rises from the old, black leather couch of the parlor, he feels dizzy. He is in the parlor for hours, and his shoulders and neck are throbbing with pain. He experienced how the process would go; he thought he prepared for everything but…

“Are you okay?” The tattooist askes, concerned. His client seems so pale and tired, and he doesn’t want to deal with a sick person or to call an ambulance in the evening.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Baekhyun flashes a smile. “I just didn't think it would take that long.” He addes, realizing the tattooist’s hesitation. “And thank you. You know, for the tattoo.”

“Not a problem, though.” The tattooist beams with adoration. Baekhyun grabs his leather backpack from beside the couch. “Uh…” He hesitates for a while, his bashfulness make Baekhyun smile. “Can I take a photograph of the tattoo?”

“Sure, why not?”

After taking a few photographs of the tattoo, the tattooist gives a few notes to Baekhyun. He tells him how to take care of his tattoo, what he must and mustn’t do. It is already written in the info sheets he gave earlier. Baekhyun listens to him, albeit halfheartedly. He is already familiar with the information before he gets the tattoo.

Baekhyun nods his head and puts the papers in his bag. He can feel eyes on his back, but he doesn't want to dwell on it.

Suddenly, the tattooist yells.

“Hey!”

Baekhyun turns, his hand already on the doorknob.

“Can you… Can you give me your name at least? And… Why the ivy?” 

Cute, Baekhyun says to himself. This guy is cute. Unfortunately, he has no time for cute guys like him.

He openes the door and says, “I am Baekhyun.” He can’t leave this cute guy without answers, it will be rude. 

“And for the ivy… It tells my story.” Before he leaves the parlor, he eyes the name tag. “Thank you again, Jongin. It was a pleasure.”

The answer Jongin get is sufficient. That tattoo became one of his masterpieces a few minutes ago, and he knows these kinds of tattoos have their stories.

The thing he doesn’t know is the deficiency of the answer Baekhyun gave. 

That ivy tattoo Baekhyun draws and gets is a reminder of his choice, his past, and his curse — quite opposite to its cultural role and dictionary definition. 

Hedera, or commonly called ivy, was brought into homes for nearly a century to eject evil spirits. In ancient ages, they used ivy as a crown for victorious people. In fact, there was a tradition of priests giving ivy to newlyweds as a symbol of love and friendship, by virtue of ivy’s clingy nature.

Oh, Baekhyun just wanted to laugh so hard when he looked at the information.

To Baekhyun, ivy is inflexible. Ivy is impudent. It lets nothing go; it strangles every single place reaches.

Just like his curse.

*

His tattoo is burning, and Baekhyun whimpers. Somehow the tattoo is one with him. Whenever he felt somber and irritated, it burns. Baekhyun doesn’t complain about this effect because his feelings and thoughts always swallow him until he breaks his connection with reality. 

Today, he needed to stay in the moment. His feelings were rising like a turbulent sea, his body wasn’t listening to his mind and he still had a duty to fulfill. For that, he had to stifle his feelings; even if the circumstances were pushing him to do impossible.

After the funeral, he stood in front of a picturesque two-storey house. The residence was far too modern and mysterious, but still charming and distinct. From outside, it didn't have the weather-beaten vibe; the burgundy shade paint was still fresh. Ferns grew through the gaps of the stone path; the smell of the mowed grass was in the air with the delicious lilacs, magnolias, and freesias, with fences reaching out the sides of the house, practically touching the residence like a guard.

The view was vivacious. 

But in Baekhyun’s eyes, it was agonizing.

As he blinked, tears dripped from his eyelids. Wanting to prevent any sound from escaping, he bit his lips tightly. 

Not very long ago, Baekhyun called this house ‘home’. Home was an idea he never grasped, an unimaginable rhythm he fell for and loved to follow. The man did this, turning a preposterous thing for Baekhyun into the real thing; carrying happiness into Baekhyun’s life.

Right now, this house was the place that Baekhyun wanted to avoid the most. 

And the place that kept traces of the man here and there, sending excruciating pain to his soul with the memories of the man and Baekhyun.

Baekhyun’s steps to the house were wobbling, his hands were shaking, and for once, he wanted to die.

He preferred to die, cry and scream until he can’t feel his lungs and his throat, but he was numb. For once, he hoped he would not live through this misery. He believed one day, he would be merry with the people who he loved the most.

But he knew he couldn’t do any of that. He couldn’t escape. He was aware of his situation, his past, and Gods who wouldn’t give him peace until he fell down on his knees down on his knees, asking mercy. Even though he did that, there is no guarantee this action of his would absolve him from bearing his burden. 

Requesting for forgiveness didn't cross his mind, not even once. Maybe he was too proud and aggrieved for it. Or he was too tired to try; waiting for his retribution to end, sooner or later. 

If only people had awareness of his tale.

He was righteous. He was blameless, hopeless. However Gods… Gods were fucking selfish, arrogant, and indifferent. Even if he asked for forgiveness, they wouldn’t break his curse. He committed a sin, rebelled against the Gods and their wills; it was unforgivable.

His curse was unbreakable.

Baekhyun stood at the front door, his hand searching for the keys. As he felt the coldness of the metal, his fingers grabbed the keys. Somehow his brain managed to take over the control of his body and he opened the door.

The door didn’t creak this time as he opened it wide. Baekhyun didn’t dare to turn on the lights, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. 

The house used to have a welcoming atmosphere, now it was quiet and bleak. Upon the walls of the long hallway, there were many photographs framed and taken by the man. His eyes gazed on a certain one, reflecting the man’s grace and handsomeness. 

He stared at the photo longingly, mumbling softly, “Why does it feel you are going to come at any moment?”

The man’s image smiled the same.

“Why does it feel like…” He sobbed, his shoulders shook in each movement of his chest. “… you are going to call my name and say ‘I am back.’”

He touched the frame, didn’t bother to wipe away his tears.

“I am sorry.” He couldn’t breathe for a while. “I am so sorry, Sehun.”

His howls of misery were getting worse, tears made him fall to his knees. 

“Why?!”

Searching for hope, happiness and living his life normally was a gamble with his sanity. And loss was marked in eternal ink.

“Why don’t you put me out of my misery? Why? Why? Why?”

Only the house heard his clamor. In absolute stillness he mourned, and the world changed into a blur. Sounds turned into a low thrumming. The smell. The taste. Everything changed its shape. His never ending cycle had started again after Sehun's death and the emotions he buried were emerging while the walls he built were falling into pieces. Then with one sob, Baekhyun collapsed like a puppet with torn ropes.

* * *

Baekhyun opens his eyes, out of breath after waking up from an intense and traumatic dream. He sees her after so many years, making the healed wounds bleed and releasing regret to his soul.

He was standing on top of a cliff, right near the edge. He had his arms stretched out in front of him, trying to call the figure that was staring into the depth. He wasn’t dense. He knew the figure was ready to jump in a blink of an eye.

This is the second time he had this dream before he heard the terrible news.

The figure moved, and Baekhyun shouted.

“Don’t!”

That slight movement of the figure was enough for Baekhyun not to allow the action.

“Don’t.” He said again, so close, tearing up and hoping his voice could reach the figure. “Don’t do that. Please…”

“This…” Another voice shook him to the core. He could never forget that tone. It was shaking with desperation and broken heartedness.

“This is the only way.” 

_Cassandra._

This was the thing Baekhyun wanted to say and more. His first love was looking at him with red eyes, disheveled hair and a ripped, dirty white dress.

Baekhyun’s heart ached. This image of her was a wrecking blow to him. She was radiant, beautiful, and this Cassandra was so twisted and eerie.

In the background, there was a flock of birds flying through the sky just above the mountain. The evening sun was moving into the horizon unhurried. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“No.” Baekhyun’s voice was firm. “No, this is not the only way.”

Cassandra smiled, her eyes were glistening with an unfamiliar emotion. 

“You are right. This is not the mere way.” She took a step backward. “Sometimes, you need to let it go.”

Baekhyun ran, but it was too late.

Cassandra was falling from the cliff, and sounds were bursting, almost deafening.

Baekhyun starts coughing, finding himself in the hallway, lying on the ground.

After gaining his consciousness moments ago, Baekhyun feels thirsty. He can’t remember the last time he had a drink and his throat is burning.

He knows his knees can’t carry him at the moment. He uses all his power to crawl himself to the kitchen, and he fumbles around to find a glass. His fingers finally touch something firm and cold. Still having trouble getting up, he holds onto the counter for support. Grabbing the glass, he pours some water for himself and he gulps down all the liquid in a matter of seconds.

Setting the glass aside, Baekhyun falls against the kitchen cabinets. Dreaming of Cassandra is like opening Pandora’s Box. The darkness he patched his soul is scattered around, his roaming shadow-like life is pitiable again.

Baekhyun laughs bitterly, hatred wrapped around his mind. He is hoping to never see Cassandra again after so long.

His first love, his beautiful Cassandra.

The daughter of King Priam of Troy.

Baekhyun reminisced how she grew up to be the most beautiful, inside and outside, of all of King’s daughters. As a result, she had many potential suitors, both mortal and immortal. She was the epitome of beauty, purity, and kindness. She was too good, almost flawless for that world. At least, Baekhyun believed that.

Maybe he was right. 

She was almost flawless, but being so became her bane and led her to the tragedy that ruined her. That same event saw the beginning of Baekhyun’s downfall. 

Myths, poems, stories… Everything imputed her, accusing her that she was two-faced and acted high and mighty. She deceived Apollo; the son of Zeus who vied for her and this action of hers didn’t go unpunished.

She was a lawbreaker, but she was virtuous.

All of ancient chronicles, poems, fables, stores specified nonsense. Just like everyone, those sources were on the Gods' side and Baekhyun…

Baekhyun was the witness.

Doubtless, he wasn’t the protagonist nor the antagonist either in the story. He was just a small, insignificant and damn-near invisible part of the pilot. As a mere servant in the palace, Baekhyun only watched her from afar and like many others, captivated by Cassandra's character.

But there was another element that would change the balance and flow of the story. 

Apollo.

The God of the Sun was also determined to win her heart, and wanted to give a gift to her. 

_The gift of prophecy._

Cassandra never noticed the gazes directed at her, malevolent or not. She didn’t want attention or gifts either, but she was afraid. As a simple moral that devoted herself to benevolence, she knew going against the order or Gods was never good.

She politely mentioned she wanted nothing more but to serve for fairness. She hoped Apollo would leave her alone yet, Cassandra’s vague answer unintentionally became a green light for the God. And Apollo was persistent.

He gave his gift to her insidiously.

In exchange for her gift, Apollo got greedy and pleaded for more, but Cassandra refused the god. She realized what he had done, but it was too late.

The gift became a diabolic curse, with Apollo's wrath forcing Cassandra to utter prophecies only for no one to believe them.

Cassandra's existence became a never-ending pain and misery. The situation did not affect only her, even her family saw her as a liar and a madwoman. Even the people who were ruled by her family looked at her as she was a witch. King Priam couldn't stand seeing her, finally locking her up in a tower within the citadel, accompanied only by a guard.

And that guard was none other but Byun Baekhyun.

The young guard always craved for her, wanting to stay close and gain Cassandra's attention, but he was too late. His efforts weren't enough. Although he managed to reach his goal, his hands were already tied. Apollo had ruined all, and there was nothing Baekhyun could do to help Cassandra.

Baekhyun consoled himself—he was close to her now and could listen and stay when no one else did. But war had wreaked havoc and ended Cassandra's existence, staining Baekhyun's life with heartbreak.

Traces of the war were on him, with blood and soot covering his entire body. The intruders had no mercy, the city was in flames and the palace was in danger. Baekhyun had the urge to find Cassandra. Vowing to defend her at any cost, he ran to the citadel until his legs felt raw.

“Cassandra!” He was shrieking her name, images of his dreams from last night flashing in his mind. He struggled to breathe, his stomach churning in fear

“Cassandra!”

The citadel was empty so Baekhyun decided to check the temple. The temple was a haven for her, she was constantly there to beseech for harmony, sanity and relief.

But every move Baekhyun made was a failure.

And then he heard her holler.

Baekhyun runs toward the seashore only to see a man take Cassandra away from her home.

She became a small dot in the middle of the ocean, the boat she was on floating with the wind. The dark sea laments, the shouts of families ripped apart crashing against the shore.

Baekhyun threw his weapons aside. His knees hurt after kneeling for so long. He knows he has blood-shot eyes and a smeared face, feels pain in his injured hands. 

He stood up abruptly, thought of taking revenge dissuading him. The Gods were supposed to help them, protect them, and keep the order. 

How could they do this to her, to Trojans and to him?

Why did they bereave him of his love, his hopes?

He picked up his weapons, his steps to the temple fierce. If the Gods would act like that, what was the point of worshipping them, listening to them?

He entered the temple, only to glare at the statues of their so-called Gods. He sneered and after a strike of his sword, the arm of the statue was on the ground.

Within hours, all the statues were destroyed, leaving nothing but dust and broken pieces on the ground. Baekhyun was laughing hysterically when Apollo suddenly appeared, resentful about his unspeakable actions.

Baekhyun didn’t budge. He had lost everything he had, and this confrontation didn’t affect him as it should.

His public disgrace changed his fate.

Apollo saw no place on this earth for a mere servant like Baekhyun, but he wasn't going to let him off easy just with death. First, he made Baekhyun immortal. Second came the curse—whoever he falls in love with would die.

*

Baekhyun shivers, back cold after leaning against the cabinets for so long. Eyes burning, he presses his palms into their sockets. Then, he remembers.

He is at Sehun's home.

And he has to pack Sehun’s belongings. 

Baekhyun gets up heavily, his knees wobbling and his tattoo burning once again. He walks to their bedroom, his deep breath becoming ragged. His shoes are dirty, brown mud making him sick. 

Baekhyun pushes the bedroom door open. Another silhouette of his past stands there, Baekhyun’s fingers curling slightly to touch it.

Baekhyun surmises that the past seeks to steal his attention today. First, the dream with Cassandra. Now, this.

The man’s dark brown hair falls prettily onto a pair of stunning, wide eyes. Baekhyun reminisces a gaze that carried the stars, lips moving in greeting.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Two simple words he yearns for, simple and enough for the silhouette’s slight movement in Baekhyun’s head.

_Hello, my angel._

* * *

In the wagon, the only sound was the squeak of the rails. Passengers sat in their seats, mostly sleeping or dozing off, except Baekhyun. Wide awake with his hat on his lap, he was looking out from the window. The view had been changing since midnight and now, the rising sun was giving glorious color to the darkness of the night. That was interesting in the beginning but now, it was a mere picture for his thoughts.

Baekhyun didn’t like sleeping when he traveled by train. Examining the view and people gave him relief. With the temporary respite, he didn’t feel like an outlander, a misfit. Even in the palace, he was never part of them. More so, in the time that he couldn’t bother to measure up he only observed them as he stayed his place and pace.

People blended in the chaos. They had an odd harmony with the hectic flow of the world, everyone carrying their burdens, expectations and troubles on their shoulders without showing their emotions to others. He came to this conclusion. Only a few of them noticed the troubled ones, a person or two reaching out. However he couldn’t fathom how people went through that routine. How did they move on? How could they be able to forget everything? How would they do that even if they were in different places? Maybe it was the part of mortality. Oblivion. Purpose. Searching. Death.

Before his episode with Apollo, he was a mortal, just like them. No matter what he did, he couldn’t call these notions to his mind at all because he was an immortal. Being an immortal, he was like a balloon that lost its owner, floating away to the unknown. Years passed, countries changed, history sometimes repeated itself and occasionally witnessed strange things, but Baekhyun’s yearning and grudge never changed.

On top of that, the Gods were not that strong anymore, they had been forgotten, only appearing in mythology as grotesque figures. The mortals had other gods which are the subjects that had been created by them. 

Money. Power. Ambition.

He was immersed in his thoughts when the man sitting beside him snored suddenly, and with everyone else in the wagon, Baekhyun startled too. He laughed shortly, feeling glad for the distraction. Probably in half an hour, the train would arrive in London and maybe, this country would make a cross in his list and for a while, stopping the void inside of him.

*

Despite the early hour, the train station seemed chaotic. With the gray smoke coming from the locomotive lingering in the air, passengers held their stuff in their hands, most moving to the exits. In the waiting area, a man held a paper with Baekhyun's name written on it, desperately looking for him. He looked cute with a smile plastered on his lips, his long, curly black hair covering his forehead. His cat eyes and his cheekbones made him stand out in the crowd and his polished dark brown shoes complimented his new navy blue, three-piece suit, contouring his facial structure with a gentle expression.

Baekhyun carried his two suitcases as his eyes scanned the waiting area. Seeing the man holding the paper with his name, Baekhyun made determined steps, greeting him with a small bow once he got close enough.

The man couldn’t hide his bewilderment. He almost dropped the paper, but he smiled.

“B-Baekhyun Byun?”

“Truly. How can I help you, sir?” Baekhyun said, amused.

“Pardon my reaction, Mr. Byun.” said the man, folding the paper. “You seem just…”

“Young, perhaps?” Baekhyun’s voice was playful. He approached people in this way, somehow they welcomed him more sincerely and unquestioningly thanks to this side of him.

“Truly.” 

Baekhyun dropped one of his luggages and extended a hand.

“It feels nice to see a new face.” 

“Oh, I am flattered.” The man chuckled. He was expecting an old, grumpy lecturer but…

Baekhyun spoke with an excellent accent, he was young and handsome. His three-piece suit fitted him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and firm chest. His ash brown hair shone under the sunshine even though most of it was hidden by his hat. There were a few beauty marks on his skin, making his face more eccentric and charming. 

“My name is Jongdae. Kim Jongdae.”

Baekhyun smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mister Kim.”

“Me too, sir. Me too.” Jongdae pointed to the gates with his head. “Please follow me. This way.”

Jongdae grabbed Baekhyun’s luggage on the ground and Baekhyun hadn’t a chance to complain. He shook his hand, his smile was still on his lips. His first impression about Jongdae was okay and he believed he would have some time for a pleasant conversation with him. 

* * *

Go to the department.

Find the class.

Prepare the papers.

Check the bibliographies.

Baekhyun’s new routine in England comprised these four actions. He woke up, got dressed, had breakfast in a cute cafe at the ground floor of his building and walked to the university. He stayed in a hotel on his first day in England. After, with Jongdae’s help, he found a nice apartment close to the university. Jongdae was complaining about the price and cursing at the landlords, but Baekhyun didn’t care about the price. Jongdae was sure he had had a heart attack when Baekhyun rented the apartment immediately. The money envelope that Baekhyun gave to the landlord was thick and Jongdae was rubbing his eyes as he witnessed the scene.

Baekhyun thanked Jongdae and invited him over for a cup of tea later, but the other remarked that he could accept the kind offer if there was some furniture in the home. Baekhyun’s cheeks turned pink while Jongdae’s high pitched laugh echoed in the empty house. Baekhyun spent a week finding furniture for his apartment later on. 

Satisfied with his progress, Baekhyun got prepared for his lectures. He was invited to the university by the dean himself, after his translations were published in academic journals. His translations from Ancient Greek to English were intriguing and outstanding, making Baekhyun a topic of conversation in the academic field as he received many letters offering him the position of a visiting lecturer. Among those letters, University of London’s was the most tempting. Baekhyun accepted the offer, packed everything up, and took the road. 

The first day of his second week wasn’t surprising. Baekhyun spent his time at his desk, right hand under his chin, staring at an empty lecture hall. Well, he would lie he wasn’t expecting this because he had heard the rumors. 

As an elective course, Greek mythology and Ancient Greek were attention grabbing, but nobody believed an Asian professor could give lectures about the subjects. But word spread fast after a pupil who attended his class. More students came to his classes after, they were in awe because he was erudite; he didn’t drown his students with unnecessary details, and he turned his classes into fun sessions. Some people tried to challenge him, giving him papers in the ancient language and imagining his humiliation. Baekhyun only eyed them for a second before reading the papers without skipping in a beat, explaining the content and background with expertise. He always thanked them for the papers, because in the 20th century it was no piece of cake finding this kind of source.

And perhaps somewhere in the universe, Orpheus was cracking up and drying his tears of joy thanks to Baekhyun’s antics.

Baekhyun wasn’t a fool, he knew how his appearance was. He stared at his reflection every morning he woke up, but he never bothered. 

This appearance was an aftereffect of his curse.

An imitation for a splendid plot twist.

*

“Come on Byun, don’t be a killjoy.”

Jongdae complained as he sat on a chair in Baekhyun’s room. Lifting his head, Baekhyun took off his reading glasses and sighed. It was a cold autumn day and leaves of melancholic yellow, bright orange and bold red were swaying with the breeze.

“You know I’ve been dealing with these…” He shook the paper he held, defending himself. “... for a long time, Jongdae.” 

Papers were sent to Baekhyun from Greece by a bibliophile who Baekhyun knew well, and he had to translate all of them until his next lecture.

“Undoubtedly.” Jongdae snorted. He never met a man like him before. Baekhyun was mysterious. Nobody knew where he was from, his marital status and his family. They only saw him in his lectures, in the library or in his office. It was like he didn’t want to interact with anyone at all. 

Baekhyun rubbed his eyes drowsily. “You know I never refuse you.” 

“But now you do.” Jongdae countered, his hand on his chest. Baekhyun rolled his eyes at this dramatic action.

“Why do you insist, my dear friend?”

Jongdae didn’t catch his mocking tone. “Because you need a break, Baekhyun.” He explained. “You are always here. In your room, burying yourself in your work. Have you even taken a break today?”

“I do not need a break-”

“Yes you do!” Jongdae snapped. “You are a human, for God’s sake!”

That was the other thing that disturbed Jongdae. Baekhyun acted as if he was not human. Jongdae couldn’t think of when he saw Baekhyun eat or drink something. Baekhyun had no friends and relatives here either. As an employee of the university's personnel affairs, Jongdae could access the legal documents easily and according to Baekhyun’s, he was an orphan who grew up in Greece. (It explained his knowledge on the country and its culture, but not much else.) He studied Greek and Latin, learned other languages and got himself a position in the university. But for Jongdae, the information seemed fabricated. Becoming friends with Baekhyun somehow calmed his suspicions and now, he felt excitement swell in his chest when they spend time together.

On the other hand, Baekhyun stayed silent. Jongdae was one of the kindest men he had ever met and he didn’t want to break his heart.

“I am not a human Jongdae.”

“Exactly, you are a well-oiled machine.” Jongdae grimaced. “Please Baekhyun. Tomorrow is Saturday, for your information.”

“I will help at the church.” Baekhyun lied.

“Bullshit!”

After his exclamation, Baekhyun didn’t push his luck. “Okay okay, you won. I will meet you tomorrow. Where and when?” 

“Oh, I am going to pick you up from your house.” Jongdae winked. “Trust me, it will be fun!”

Baekhyun halted. It had always been a personal rule that he doesn't interact with people. The less time he spent with anyone, the better. Within a year, Jongdae had already become one of his friends. And as much as Baekhyun wanted to push him away, Jongdae didn't accept no for an answer.

“You invited me for a cup of tea, remember?”

Baekhyun laughed. “So, you are coming for tea.”

“Hah hah hah. Not funny.” Jongdae sprang to his feet. “I will stop by Madame's Bakery.”

“For the pudding?” Baekhyun’s eyes twinkled. He had a sweet tooth and Madame’s Bakery had the best pastries in his neighborhood.

“For the pudding.” Jongdae agreed. He couldn’t go to Baekhyun’s house empty-handed and nobody said no to Madame’s Bakery desserts ever. “By the way, don’t even dare ignore me.” He walked to the door. “Otherwise I will call the police and break into your house.”

Baekhyun gulped when Jongdae left the room.

Jongdae was rarely serious.

And he was sure Jongdae wasn’t bluffing.

* * *

“Hello mate.”

“Hello to you too.”

Jongdae handed over a bag of puddings to Baekhyun. “I kept my promise. Now it’s your turn.” Rubbing his cold hands, he entered the house. “I should’ve worn my gloves.”

Baekhyun took a look. “This is bribery.” His tone was serious but his smile gave it away.

“I am not a criminal!” Their laughter chimed in the hall and Jongdae took off his wool coat. “I have high expectations, Mr. Byun.”

“I hope you won’t be disappointed then, Mr. Kim.” 

While Jongdae hung his wool coat at the hanger, Baekhyun went to the kitchen. He set the pudding on the kitchen bench as earl grey tea was brewing in the pot. Two porcelain plates were full of some eclairs, buns and small cakes, all ready for the first guest of Baekhyun's house. 

Jongdae pondered for a moment as his gaze traveled around the house. If he was in Baekhyun's shoes, how would've he felt? Growing up in a big family and having playmates, he never felt alone. He was never alone; there was sharing, caring, playing and babbling. Silence in Baekhyun's house was unnerving, with the only traces being that of him and his clothes.

And after starting his own family, Jongdae cherished people dear to him more. His home was full of laughter, joy and heartfelt conversations on weekends, traces of his lover and his love. Yet here he was, the only person in Baekhyun’s house, with an inkling from the back of his head about trespassing on Baekhyun’s privacy and living space. 

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Baekhyun leaned against the wall, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Maybe later." Jongdae shrugged. "Thank you for taking my advice to heart, your house seems better now. How about giving me a tour?"

At his friend's request, Baekhyun gave a house tour to him as Jongdae didn’t hide his admiration. The decoration displayed Baekhyun's taste and Jongdae was positive that Baekhyun had had deep pockets when the tour ended.

"Aw…" Jongdae cooed. They were in the kitchen. "You didn't have to do…" He made a gesture with his hands for the plates in the tray. "These."

"In honor of my first guest."

"Wait, what?!"

"If you are going to stand and shriek there, I might change my mind-"

"Oh, no no no no no!" Jongdae shook Baekhyun's shoulders with a firm grip. "We will drink our tea, eat and I will not talk anymore, okay?"

"Promise?"

“Promise.”

They took their plates and cups, and Baekhyun led them to the living room, his thoughts veering past like a filmstrip. So far, he never invited anyone into his life, not even his house. England was full of surprises. 

“Uhm…” Jongdae suddenly cleared his throat. Baekhyun was arranging the mahogany coffee tables that he ordered just a week ago. “Wow, these tables are beautiful.” They were finely carved with grape leaves, the three legs featuring open fretwork. 

“Thank you.”

After putting everything on the coffee tables, Jongdae clasped his hands. Baekhyun sat on the couch and raised a brow to Jongdae’s bashful demeanor.

“Oh God, I don’t know how to start this.” said Jongdae, his voice hoarse. 

Baekhyun would only urge him. “Let me ask you a question. Is this demeanor of yours connected to me, perhaps?”

On the verge of tears, Jongdae nodded. Baekhyun smiled sweetly, his eyes turning into two beautiful crescents. 

“Please don’t be shy, this is not who you are.” He patted Jongdae’s knee. “And I have an idea that you will apologize for something you think you did.”

“H-How…”

Baekhyun sipped his tea, his soft and white fingers curled around the handle of the cup.

“Loneliness is an outlandish concept to you, am I correct?”

“Yes.” Jongdae stammered.

“To me, loneliness is the only thing I’ve known all my life.” Baekhyun beheld. Jongdae unwinded his hands, reminding himself he was here for the tea. His fingertips touched the cup; freezing when Baekhyun’s confession sank in.

“I grew up in an orphanage, Jongdae.” Jongdae bit his lips, blamed himself for the heavy tension between them. “No name, no record. I was the abnormal kid, Alexo, who was unlike anyone else there. The old man in the orphanage gave me this name, then his surname after I came of age. He was kind but…” Baekhyun shook his head nonchalantly. “My first language was Greek, his language. He told me tales and myths, and I became fond of them. I studied his language, learned other languages and… You know the rest of the story.”

Jongdae finished his tea, not caring that his mouth burned. 

“What is your name? I mean your full name in Greek.”

“Alexo Athanasiou.”

“Wow.”

Baekhyun ignored the bitter taste in his mouth after biting his tongue hard. He hated himself for lying to Jongdae. Though, if he said the truth, the result would be worse than this.

“How did you get your other name?”

“Byun Baekhyun was a blessing from a lady.” Baekhyun giggled. “She was a clairvoyant, she told me my fortune and gave me this name.”

“You are an extraordinary man, Baekhyun.” Jongdae giggled too. He thought he broke Baekhyun’s heart when he hinted at his private life, however, Baekhyun appeared to be unaffected. 

“Who said I am an ordinary man, Mr. Kim?”

They were laughing when the sun once again took its place in the sky, cascading her rays and giving life to everything on the planet in the chilly afternoon of winter.

*

Long shadows vanished from sight, marrying into the darkness of the night. The city meant people, and masses meant a tumult that gave Baekhyun a strong sense of deja vu. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. His hands tingled in the pockets of his long black coat; cold air forcing him to search something warm.

“Ta dah!”

_The Ocean View_

“I can’t believe we came to a pub,” Baekhyun spoke.

“We came to my friends’ pub.” Jongdae chided. “Are you going to stand there throughout the entire night, Baekhyun? Come on!”

Baekhyun followed Jongdae, his disapproval was written all over his face. He couldn’t believe Jongdae’s fuss was about taking him to… Here.

“I hate people.”

The Ocean View was an old, single-story stone building that was part of a lively neighborhood. If someone had looked thoroughly, the structure would tell its history with details hidden in the walls. The arc at the entrance and windows at the sides were renovated, the lights of it making them more shiny.

Delighted, Jongdae was already walking to the door and Baekhyun followed him, talking to himself grumpily with a voice no one could hear.

“Yo, mate!” Jongdae addressed the guy who waited at the door. 

"Yo, Dae!" The guy greeted back, his glum face changed into a radiant and boyish one.

“How are you, Seok?”

“All the better after seeing you. And who is this?"

"Seok, this is my friend Baekhyun. Baekhyun, this is Minseok."

"How do you do?"

Minseok's handshake was firm but Baekhyun's was satisfyingly strong. Baekhyun bowed slightly, kept his words to himself. Minseok was impressed, he looked up from his lashes.

"Your friend has manners, Jongdae. He is not like you."

"Yah!"

"I apologize on his behalf. He is quite…"

"Vocal, I believe." Baekhyun completed Minseok's sentence and Minseok chortled. 

"Go inside, both of you. By the beard of Odin, my feet will freeze if that giant can't call it a night."

"I will talk to him." Jongdae patted Minseok's shoulder. "Hold on a little longer, hmm?"

Minseok grunted and Baekhyun dragged Jongdae inside.

"What was that?"

"We blocked the way, Jongdae.” Jongdae fixed his coat. They were inside now. “People shot daggers at us at the entrance and Minseok is quite right. It's arctic outside."

"Fine, fine,” Jongdae declared. “Let's find the giant and help Minseok."

Baekhyun pursed his lips. After drinking a beer, he could make up an excuse and go to his house easily. Before he could do that, he apparently had to help Jongdae find a giant.

“I shouldn’t have let him blackmail me.”

Jongdae went straight to the bar. He raised his hand heatedly, waving like an impatient child.

"Hey giant!"

A tall guy leaned on the bar, his dark brown hair falling prettily onto a pair of wide, stunning eyes. He lolled his head to one side, his attention fully on Jongdae.

“Hey shortie!” The so-called giant’s voice was deep, almost velvety, and Baekhyun couldn’t take his eyes off him. He was wearing chino black pants, the fabric slightly hugging his legs and hiding his strong thighs. His shirt was tucked at the waist, sleeves rolled up till his elbows, and two buttons left open.

“Ugh, I hate you!" Jongdae protested.

“I love you too, Jongdae.”

“Just shut up.”

“You shouldn't have called me giant.” His smirk was lethal, squinting his eyes and showing his dimple on his cheek.

“I called you giant because you are a giant.” Jongdae complained. “We can discuss this topic another time.” He put one hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder and he pulled him to his side. “Okay, let me introduce the most intelligent and handsome guy in England to you.”

Baekhyun hid his smile. “I am nothing but a migrant here.” With his eyes on Jongdae’s friend, Baekhyun’s heart made a somersault in his chest. Those eyes carried stars, reverberating Cassandra's eyes. “Hello.” He tried to speak, his voice shaking a little. "I am Alexo Athanasiou.”

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae exclaimed. “Okay, that is his Greek name but he is Baekhyun Byun. A friend of mine from the university. And Baekhyun, that giant is Chanyeol Park, one of my friends. He owns the place.”

"Welcome and nice to meet you." 

"Thanks. Nice to meet you too."

Jongdae and Baekhyun sat on empty barstools. Grabbing a towel from the bench, Chanyeol wiped the glasses, fingers slightly pink as he got back to work. His big, veiny hands drew Baekhyun's attention, finding them as a contrast to his round and cute face. Chanyeol felt Baekhyun's eyes on him but paid him no mind.

"Where's the spectacular singer you have been talking about?" Jongdae ranted, looking around. Every attempt of Chanyeol finding a good singer had failed and he must do more than that if he wanted to keep his business open. Chanyeol always barked when Jongdae warned him about his decisions and his unprosperous efforts. 

"If you are here to yammer, you know where the door is."

"He is a giant and an idiot." Jongdae whispered to Baekhyun.

"My ears hear fantastically, Jongdae." Chanyeol put the glass aside. "He will come. We still have ten minutes."

"Blimey…" Jongdae rolled his eyes. "Your customers will complain and you, my clear-headed friend, will have to lock this bar's door one day."

"For heaven's sake…" Chanyeol sneered. "Say one word and I-"

"Excuse me." Baekhyun singsonged. "I think the singer is here, Mr. Park."

"Oh, where is he?" Chanyeol's excitement reminded him of a golden retriever and Baekhyun laughed when Chanyeol walked to the other side of the bar.

"Why are you laughing?" Jongdae's curiosity got Baekhyun guffawed. 

"Your friend… He is like a dog and you are like a cat."

"How funny," Jongdae said, dryly.

“Why are you pushing his buttons?” Baekhyun wanted to know. From Chanyeol’s reaction, it seemed like a sensitive topic and Chanyeol showed every sign of being indignant.

Jongdae groaned. “He should pull himself together for his own good. This bar is his last chance. If he won’t make it… He can’t stay here.”

Family issues were the secret topic of Jongdae’s explanation and Chanyeol’s stagger. Baekhyun didn’t persist, it was a personal matter after all, and Jongdae was glad.

“You sound hopeless.” Baekhyun combed his hair with his fingers.

“Well, I am hopeless.” Jongdae emphasized every word. “He is a man with a heart of gold, well-mannered. I trust him more than anyone.” Scratching his head, he sulked. “But he is a bubblehead when it comes to the business.” He showed the pub with a gesture of his hand. “This place was a wreck. He started from scratch, rebuilding it and buying everything that the place needed. He spent so much and he needs to draw attention. He needs customers, he needs live music, he…”

Baekhyun patted Jongdae’s shoulder.

“I don’t care what he needs anymore. I need a drink.”

“Have some faith.” Baekhyun advised. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (**)”

After Baekhyun’s quote, Jongdae held his head high up. Being worried too much had taken a toll on him, dealing with headaches and sleepless nights. Baekhyun’s words cheered him, dismissing his bad thoughts from his mind.

“You sure have a way with words, you know?”

A compliment was the most powerful way to let someone know that person was appreciated. Jongdae’s words were close to a compliment and the truth. 

“Thank you.” Baekhyun was caught unaware. He sure had a way with words, he owed this part of him to his immortality. But he never expected Jongdae’s approval. He flashed Jongdae a genuine smile, receiving a radiant one in return.

Across the room, Chanyeol was talking to a musician who carried a hard guitar case on his shoulder. The musician’s face was serious, lips set in a firm line. Chanyeol’s eyebrows arched and suddenly, his voice boomed. 

Jongdae shifted his head slightly to look at Chanyeol. “Oh no.” His statement was judgemental.

“What is the matter?”

“Look at his ears.” Chanyeol’s elvish ears were red. “That singer pissed him off probably and his last chance for today is sinking in the bottomless sea of despair.” The singer’s gestures were livid and Chanyeol was close to punching him. Jongdae huffed. “Maybe I should write a book. _What Not to Do When You Run A Pub_.”

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun grinned. “Take it easy, mate.”

Jongdae held his head between his hands. “What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

Baekhyun peered across the room, his mind analyzing Chanyeol’s expression. Chanyeol was furious, the light of the pub highlighting the veins on his hands. He dismissed the singer, went to the stage and said something to the musicians. The musicians took their instrument and...

“Oh, tonight we will witness something unusual.”

Jongdae was baffled upon seeing Baekhyun’s enjoyment.

“What is he doing?”

His whisper was stifled due to Chanyeol’s voice, resounding from the microphone that was placed on the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and welcome to the show.”

“Bloody hell! He is going to sing!”

Jongdae’s thrill wasn’t out of the ordinary. Baekhyun smiled and only watched them. The musicians started to play the melody and Chanyeol’s raspy voice echoed, halting and stunning everyone in their places.

_When the deep purple falls over sleepy garden walls_

_And the stars begin to flicker in the sky_

Baekhyun closed Jongdae’s mouth with a gentle push to his chin, still smiling. Holding the microphone solidly, Chanyeol’s face was peaceful and anxious. His voice didn’t falter but Baekhyun understood.

He was sorrowful, his penitence was his freedom and music.

As Chanyeol sang, everyone fell into a trance. His voice was the guide, presenting a new experience to their feelings and comforting their souls.

_Through the mist of a memory you wander back to me_

_Breathing my name with a sigh_

Even Minseok was enjoying it, humming the melody with a whistle. 

_In the still of the night once again I hold you tight_

_Though you're gone, your love lives on when moonlight beams_

Chanyeol never missed the beat and got ahead of musicians, a silent appreciation to show his respect to them. His interpretation of the song was melancholic, a fresh way to cover it.

_And as long as my heart will beat, lover we'll always meet_

_Here in my deep purple dreams_

_Here in my purple dreams_

Baekhyun’s inference was accurate.

Chanyeol was heartbroken.

The customers cheered, yelled and gave him a standing ovation. Chanyeol thanked them hastily, his eyes were red and Jongdae threw his arms around him. The hug between the two friends was emotional. With his eyes on Baekhyun, Chanyeol held Jongdae like he was his anchor. Baekhyun’s eyes reflected empathy with his understanding smile. 

“I… I will prepare your drinks.”

Chanyeol ran to the bar hastily, the pub was buzzing with enthusiasm and adrenaline. The best friends talked animatedly, Baekhyun joined them once in a while, and the serenade of the night reached the sky, waltzing with the infinite white patterns of the stars.

* * *

“Is he…” Baekhyun asks Chanyeol. “Is he with you and the others now?”

Baekhyun’s question hangs in the air. Chanyeol’s smile gets wider, urging Baekhyun to speak more.

“I shouldn’t ask you this. I can't." Salty tears blur Baekhyun's vision. "You are the first one I let in without even realizing it after Cassandra and…" Chanyeol's irresistible eyes crack his façade. "You are the first promise that I gave to myself but I couldn't keep.”

His clamor doesn’t affect the taller. 

"I fell in love again, sweetheart.” Baekhyun chokes back his cries. “I don’t know how and why but I did. It is a vain attempt to remember her face. Your voice. Now… To heal the reopened scars. And to ask your forgiveness for my betrayal.”

* * *

Autumn was the time of gold and warm beverages. Baekhyun stood in front of his office window and inhaled the smell of the rain deeply, his lips stretching to form a peaceful smile.

Visual and sensual elements triggered a distant memory of his times in ancient Greece. It was a ritual he had to attend to honor the Gods, a social event that was highly anticipated. Baekhyun felt euphoric, accompanied by the divine melody of the hymn as he watched the gifted lady who sang the song and made the hymnist proud.

“Someone is happy.”

Baekhyun turned around as Jongdae walked into his office, his shirt strewn after dashing around. “I am.”

“You disappeared again.” Jongdae said matter-of-factly while fixing his shirt. After the night at the pub, Jongdae thought they might get closer but the following day, Baekhyun was nowhere to be found. 

“I didn’t disappear, Jongdae. I went to Greece for my research.”

Baekhyun had a talk with the dean after his pub adventure. They met at one of the most luxurious restaurants in London for lunch. At the restaurant, Baekhyun showed his new translations to the dean, explaining his syllabus and the feedback he got from his pupils. The dean was moved, Baekhyun's diligence was exceptional and Baekhyun cut to the chase.

_“Would it be possible to give me a leave for a couple of months for my research, sir?”_

_The dean wiped his mouth with the napkin, sending a signal to the waiter who served them and was at the other side of the restaurant._

_"Where will you go?"_

_"To Greece."_

_There was an uncertain pause before the dean spoke his mind. “I don’t see a reason to say no, Mr. Byun.” Baekhyun smiled kindly. “But I must ask. Is there another way to get those papers?”_

_“I’m afraid not, sir. I am not going for the papers only. Parchments, books, inscriptions…"_

_"I see." The waiter brought the tab. “All the best, then. I know you're a dedicated man. Finish your task and come back here instantly. I am sure your pupils will miss you.” The dean paid for their meal, leaving Baekhyun alone with his thoughts as he sat._

And the last part of the conversation wasn't a lie. Baekhyun's temporary absence created a stir, only to die down with a photograph of him from Greece, smiling to the camera in front of an inscription. Beside the photograph, there was a letter of thanks, making the university employees swell with pride.

"When did you come back?"

Baekhyun’s answer to Jongdae was curt. "Yesterday." 

In the productive trip, Baekhyun collected many papers, books, and parchments from his bibliophile friend which was more than enough for his lectures. Baekhyun took some time to look through the possibility of breaking his curse too. He almost never left the libraries, bookshops or any place he got information. Even so, that was a dead end. He had no reason to stay there longer.

And the order of the world in 1939 wasn't perfect. The tension in Asia never ceased, the Mukden Incident in Manchuria lit the fuse for the Second World War there, and between the years of 1937 and 1939, the war expanded. Massacres, blitzes and attacks bloodied the continent.

Europe was on the qui vive, the legacies of the First World War impaired the economies and infrastructure of the countries irrevocably. Win or lose, it must be someone’s fault and as a consequence of this natural human nature, the equilibrium veered. Adolf Hitler was the rising star as a national hero in Germany, a politician who sought _Lebensraum_ , more living space, for German people. His aggressive policy disturbed other countries and slowly became the main reason for a possible conflict between governments. The Italian dictator, Benito Mussolini whose policy focused on expanding occupation and fascism in Abyssinia in October 1935 was the first sign of the Second World War in Europe. 

In Greece, parliament was suspended and there was an establishment called the 4th of August Regime, a product of the man who believed an authoritarian government was necessary. With Metaxas, a retired general, Greece followed a neutral policy. However European countries were already falling against German forces. 

And Baekhyun knew. Certainly, the repetition of a disastrous three lettered word was coming. War. He had to wrap the trip up and return to the university to cut ties and wipe out his traces.

He had to keep Jongdae at bay.

Headlines in newspapers weren’t pleasing either. In April 1939, Italy conquered Albania and the thread suddenly came into sight close whereupon Britain guaranteed Greece’s borders. 

And now, radio had announced that German forces annexed Poland, marking the beginning of the Second World War. 

Baekhyun’s blissful face morphed into a brooding one and Jongdae felt responsible.

"Am I a horrid person, Baekhyun?"

"What?” Baekhyun was blindsided. “No, Jongdae-"

“Aren't we friends?” Jongdae pressed his lips together wanly.

"We are." Baekhyun acknowledged.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Finding Baekhyun’s words befuddling, Jongdae masked his displeasure. “Do you have any idea how petrified I was?"

“We are nothing more than friends, Jongdae.” Wounding words went through the latter. “You're not my parents, a sibling or relative.” Baekhyun knew what he did was wrong but he couldn’t let the cycle of his curse get Jongdae. “Just tell me. Who the hell are you to want me to inform you about my absence? And as an employee of the university's personnel affairs, you are the last person to not know which end is up.”

Jongdae broke down in tears. "Baekhyun-"

"Leave me alone, Kim Jongdae." Baekhyun couldn't control his exasperation anymore. "Know your place."

Jongdae’s steps limped, his chest shaking with his sobs and head full of sorrow that mirrored the heaviness of his heart. Baekhyun went weak at his knees as Jongdae walked away, grasping at the curtains to not fall apart.

*

Two days later, in the morning, Baekhyun was picking up his sheets from his table when a knock came at his door. He didn’t bother to lift his head.

"Come in."

"Good morning Mr. Byun."

Baekhyun raised his head bewilderedly when an unexpected raspy voice called his name.

Park Chanyeol stood in the middle of his office; high-waisted, snuff-colored trousers flowing down his undeniably long legs, his beige shirt tucked at the waist again. A deep brown leather trouser brace was coming down his shoulders nicely, the same color with his plain oxford shoes. He was holding his coat in his hand and Baekhyun couldn’t help but envy him.

With a portly presence and his unique gusto, he was good-looking. In broad daylight, his features looked like the other version of Ares, taking off his helmet and a hint of delirious gesture shadowing his face in the warzone. 

“Good morning Mr. Park.” Baekhyun collected his thoughts. He must stop hitting on him. “How can I help you?” 

“I was in Jongdae’s office and I couldn’t find him. Have you seen him?” Chanyeol tried to carefully mislead him, hoping to learn anything about Jongdae’s mood. His dear friend cared very much for Baekhyun, talking about him non-stop all the time but for two days, chatty, funny and loud Jongdae was awfully quiet. An abstract expression, forced smiles and never-ending sighs. Chanyeol was positive the sky was falling down.

Baekhyun’s eyes twitched. He couldn’t believe Jongdae sent Chanyeol on him. A mortal's solutions were so primitive.

“I am a linguist and I am working for the faculty.” Baekhyun grabbed his sheets. Chanyeol took a step. They knew it was a game that nobody wanted to give into but Chanyeol was bold.

“So?”

“Unbelievable.” Baekhyun sneered at his nonsense. “Does this place look like the university's personnel affairs office?”

Chanyeol suspected Baekhyun might be the reason for Jongdae's unpredicted behavior. Since Jongdae met Baekhyun, Baekhyun was the knight in shining armor of Jongdae and a pang of jealousy had hit Chanyeol.

“I thought you were his friend.” 

“What is the matter with Londoners and their so-called apprehension?” Baekhyun’s outburst affirmed his suspicions and it only took a few seconds for Chanyeol to block Baekhyun who he strived to leave.

“I will not beat around the bush.” Chanyeol’s aura became darker. “What have you done to him?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said what have you done to him?”

“This conversation will go nowhere.” Baekhyun pointed at the door. “Leave my office. Now.”

Throwing his manners aside, Chanyeol slammed his hand onto Baekhyun’s table. Baekhyun dropped his papers as he winced.

“I won’t ask again. What have you done to Jongdae?”

Everything happened like a bolt from out of the blue.

Baekhyun snatched the knife that he hid under his table and flew at Chanyeol. Chanyeol fell, his coat thrown to the corner. The petite man held a knife on top of him, the tip of it was so close to the taller's jugular. Getting hot under the collar, Baekhyun gripped Chanyeol’s shirt.

“If you raise your voice one more time or hit something, I will cut your throat first, then, rip your tongue.”

Chanyeol became paralyzed.

“Your best friend, Kim Jongdae, asserts he is my friend.” Baekhyun flared up. “Let’s accept he is. But he is not my lover, my sibling, my parents or my relative!” Chanyeol broke out in a cold sweat and was convinced that Baekhyun had bats in the belfry. “I don’t have to report every damn move of mine to him! If he is going to be butthurt about it, tell him that he can eff off.”

Baekhyun arose and threw the knife to the wall. As the weapon stuck to the wall, Chanyeol froze.

“Now excuse me, I need to leave for my class.”

Chanyeol couldn’t move and Baekhyun took his papers again like nothing occurred.

“Close the bloody door when you leave if you don’t want to find this knife on your chest.”

Baekhyun stomped as Chanyeol lay down on the floor, trying to recover from shock and not to think about the mole on the right side of Baekhyun’s lips.

*

“Hello Mr. Byun!”

Baekhyun’s class had ended earlier than usual after his encounter with Chanyeol, forming a plan to ramble around university and clear his head from what was coming. He saw Minseok who greeted him across the road and Minseok plodded, perturbing Baekhyun as he came closer.

Minseok’s clothes were stained with blood and dirt. Baekhyun quelled the urge of hysteria, reminding himself he was in London, not in the palace.

“Goodness, are you alright? Do you want to go an hospital-”

“No no, I’m alright.” Minseok held Baekhyun’s shoulder for support but his leg gave way. 

“We are going to the hospital.” Baekhyun hailed a cab road and helped Minseok to get in. As they seated themselves, Baekhyun talked with an authoritative voice.

“To the hospital please.”

It wasn’t a pretty sight. Minseok had a gash on his leg that started from his thigh to his calf. His trousers was stained in a dark color, there was a faint smell of blood and Baekhyun was glad to run into him. Otherwise, Minseok would be in an unfortunate situation.

“We are here, sir.”

Baekhyun paid the driver, and helped Minseok.

“There is an injured person here!”

In fifty minutes, both men were in the hospital room. A doctor was stitching Minseok up, his sharp gasps resounding against the noiseless white colored walls. The deep wound was disinfected and Minseok was lucky that he would be fine with stitches.

The hospital was in mayhem. Minseok only watched how Baekhyun was in control even though they didn’t know each other that much. He reprimanded a few healthcare providers who looked down on Minseok and didn’t want to treat him. Disgruntled, he found the head physician and threatened to sue them. The reaction was quite the opposite from the rest. Finally, a young doctor ushered them to another corridor, opening a door and getting the medical equipment.

“What happened, Minseok?” Baekhyun began. “Why were you wandering around?”

“The Ocean View.” Gritting his teeth, Minseok did his best to speak. “Loan sharks.” He regretted, refusing to take something when it had been suggested. His threshold of pain wasn’t low but the doctor's hand had the iron grip. “They were looking for Chanyeol. I tried to distract them but- Ah!”

Baekhyun didn’t need to hear the rest. “Just a little bit more.” said, promising and holding Minseok’s hand. “It will be over soon, Minseok. You did amazing.”

“No. No, I didn’t.” Minseok bellowed. “I could've stopped them, ripped their heads of but-”

“Mr. Kim, please don’t move.” The doctor warned harshly and Minseok hung his head.

“I apologize, doctor.”

The three of them lapsed into silence again until the doctor’s voice broke it.

“It’s over.”

Minseok rested against the pillow on the hospital bed. “Thank heavens.” He eyed Baekhyun as he sat on the bed. “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself, Baekhyun.”

“I’m much older than I appear, Minseok.” Baekhyun ripped the torn material of his trousers and threw it in a bin. “I couldn’t fathom to lose a dignified man like you.”

“Mr. Kim, you need plenty of rest and take your medicines.” Intervening in their conversation, the young doctor explained aftercare steps. “The dress must be freshened every day. Before dressing, don’t skip applying the cream on the wound.”

“But I-” Minseok’s quaking was enough for Baekhyun to step in.

“Give him what he needs, doctor.” Realizing Minseok couldn’t afford the hospital bill, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Please tell him more, I will take care of the rest.” 

“You heard your friend, Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you, doctor.” When the doctor left for the medicines, Minseok studied Baekhyun’s face. “Why?”

“I told my reason. Integrias, veritas, dignitas.”

“Internity, truth, dignity.”

“Definitely.” Baekhyun felt a heaviness leave his chest. “The world needs these more. Let’s keep them alive, shall we?”

Minseok was thankful. People like Baekhyun were the hidden treasures of this world, rare and precious.

“If you say so.”

Baekhyun notified Minseok he would get fresh clothes for him and spend the night with him at the hospital. Surprisingly, Minseok didn’t object. He had no one to wait for him at his home after all and his clothes made him uncomfortable.

“Can you do me a favour, Minseok?” Baekhyun requested before he went away.

“Of course.”

“Those loan sharks.” The last two words of Baekhyun gave Minseok the shivers. “Do they find you or... Do you find them?”

*

Minseok had slept soundly that night in the hospital, his fatigue and dwindling adrenaline helping him fall into sleep easily. His fresh clothes were a little bit big for him, giving him the look of a child who wore his father’s clothes and his sleeping face was relaxed. Baekhyun watched Minseok until he was asleep and made sure the staff of the ward took care of him well, making everything easy for Baekhyun. A couple of hours later Baekhyun was done with his visit, planning tomorrow in his head.

After Minseok was discharged from the hospital, they walked side by side on the pavement in the morning. Fortunately, Minseok’s flat was near the hospital, so they decided to walk, getting some fresh air would be nice for them. While they took to the road, Baekhyun slowed his pace to keep in step with Minseok who was walking with his crutches, an unspoken agreement coming between them harmoniously. 

When they reached the building, Minseok spoke with a low voice.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Don’t even mention it.” Baekhyun put his hand in his pockets. “Follow the doctor’s orders and prescription. If you need anything-”

“Please, Baekhyun.” Minseok pleaded. “I… I’m not even sure how I can repay you and now, you are asking...”

“Kim Minseok.” Baekhyun’s husky voice stopped Minseok’s stuttering. “Answer this question first. You are Jongdae’s friend, aren’t you?”

“Yes. So are you.”

Baekhyun didn’t deny nor confirm this assumption. “You can keep an eye on him in every circumstance, can’t you?”

“Definitely. But why are you asking me these?”

“I am leaving. Soon.”

“Oh.” Minseok blinked. “I mean until your departure, you can also-”

“Jongdae and I are not on good terms.” Baekhyun admitted. “He’s so dear to me but… Winning his trust after breaking it will be an uphill climb. And we both need time.”

“I see.” Minseok shifted his weight from his leg to his crutches. “Good luck, Baekhyun.”

“Thanks Minseok. Take care.”

“You too.”

Minseok watched how Baekhyun’s wide shoulders stretched his coat and the beat of his swift steps mingled with gusty and humid air. Jongdae complained about Baekhyun’s introversion, with him being a workaholic and silent but that wasn’t the case. Kim Minseok saw a man of the world who concealed his traumas. Baekhyun was an outlander, an abandoned and ill-fitted jigsaw piece of the picture.

*

Park Chanyeol was at the Ocean View, sleeplessness making the movement of his limbs clumsy. He tossed around in bed and never slept, thinking about Minseok all night long. Despite Kim Minseok being a tough guy and a strong fighter, he still didn’t show up and Chanyeol decided to go to his home and check him out as soon as he finished tidying up.

When he finished the chore, a stinging pain struck through his ribs.

“Christ...”

“I recommend you to see a doctor.”

Chanyeol pressed a hand against his pounding heart, jumping up in fright and shock.

“What are you doing here?” 

Byun Baekhyun was there in all of his glory, his eyes carrying mirth and his lips forming a smirk, enough to annoy Chanyeol.

“I need to talk to you.”

Baekhyun’s unkempt hair was parted in the middle, covering his eyebrows a little. The dark circles under his eyes were evidence of weariness. This was an unusual sight to Chanyeol. Baekhyun was the embodiment of flawlessness even though he has only seen Baekhyun twice.

“If you can find a place to sit down, sure.” Chanyeol indicated the disarray, minding his manners this time and not wishing a repetition of the knife incident.

“Where are the others?” Baekhyun stayed standing up. The damage was worse than his assumptions and he couldn’t rely on any chair to carry his weight.

“I told them to not come here until I say otherwise.”

“I see.” Taking out his knife from his jacket’s pocket, Baekhyun’s fingertips searched for the sheet. “Do you need help?”

“Nah, I can handle it. Thanks for the offer.”

Feeling the sheet, Baekhyun put it on the counter. “I ran into Minseok yesterday.” He started, his fingers wrapping around the haft.

“Oh really?” Chanyeol carried his part in the conversation distractedly, then turned his head quickly with comprehension. “Wait, where-” The sight of the knife interrupted the sentence of the owner. “God, can you please...” The knife was effective at striking terror. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No.” Baekhyun held his laugh. “I want to make things clear.” He was having fun but sadly, he had no time for teasing Chanyeol more even if his reactions were too funny for words.

“A-Alright. I am… I am all ears.”

“Minseok mentioned your issues.” Baekhyun’s index finger drew a circle on the haft of the knife. “When we were in the hospital-”

“Jesus, is he okay?!” Chanyeol was prepared to run but Baekhyun’s affirmation made him stop.

“Loosen up. He will be fine. He is resting at his home and taking his medicines now.”

“Thank goodness.” Chanyeol said with relief. 

“You are cute.” Baekhyun commented.

“I am not cute.” Chanyeol refused. “I am handsome.”

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. “And I am the Queen.” He shook his head, his sleek hair dancing around his sides. “Anyway, I solved your issues.”

“H-How? Why?”

Frankly, Baekhyun hadn’t been able to figure that out either. He should’ve walked away and he shouldn’t have lent a hand to Jongdae’s friend. Breaking one of his personal rules about interacting with people less and, now, breaking another about forbidding himself to act as their friends or lover would be unsuccessful. 

Long ago, he believed maybe one day he would blend in. He did his utmost, yet, people never puzzled over his ideas and what he had been through. In the end, they excluded him and Baekhyun stopped trying. First the Gods, then the people became his taboo.

“I paid all of your debts.”

Chanyeol missed Baekhyun’s clipped tone. “You are joking.” 

“I am serious.” It was a pity, his consideration ended up with this outcome. Baekhyun pitied them. Their time in this world was short and they succeeded in entertaining him. “Regard this as a charity, sweetheart.”

Chanyeol’s ears turned pink. “Why did you let me think you are…”

“Heartless? A bastard?” Blinking owlishly, Chanyeol was tongue-tied. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he’ll tell you the truth.”

“Oscar Wilde.” Astonishment in his eyes, Chanyeol watched Baekhyun. “You told me you are a linguist."

“I am a linguist and Oscar Wilde captures my favors.”

“I see.” Chanyeol rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I… I apologize Baekhyun. I shouldn’t have act like that at the university.”

Baekhyun’s heart drummed in his chest. The way Chanyeol spoke to him, his eyes, his charm… Everything screamed Cassandra. Grief burst through Baekhyun’s soul and his crestfallen look flickered past Chanyeol. 

“I apologize too. I shouldn’t attack you.”

“I deserved that.” His carefree and bright smile cracked a wall inside Baekhyun. “Uhm, may I ask where did you learn that?”

“If you can be more specific, I can answer your question easily.”

“Where did you learn to use a knife like that?” There was no contradiction between Chanyeol’s childish inquisitiveness and the brightness in his eyes.

“In the army. I was a good marksman. I still am.”

“How old are you?”

“Older than you.”

“Alright.” The exclamation mirrored Chanyeol's disbelief. “About Jongdae…” Pausing in indecision, his excitement faded. “Don’t be mad at him. Just… I had never seen him so depressed in my life.” 

“I told your friend.” Baekhyun breathed out. “He chose to not listen.”

“He is like a mother hen, you know?”

“He has to stop it, then.”

“At least talk to him, don’t you? You need-”

“Both sides have committed depredations that they are ashamed of. Moreover, I will leave England soon-”

“You what?”

“You heard clearly, Chanyeol.” Hearing his own name from Baekhyun, Chanyeol’s cherry lips parted with wonder. “I didn't accept the offer. There was no reason for me to."

“But Jongdae said the dean’s offer was-”

“He can get fired because of leaking information, you know?” Baekhyun imitated Chanyeol.

“You are a lunatic.”

Chanyeol desired to compliment him and earn his admiration but he knew Baekhyun wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings. He didn’t fear that revelation might be rejected, causing himself an embarrassment. What was the point of catching and locking a nightingale who would be joyful when it was free?

“I am a lucid man in lunatic men.”

Baekhyun’s voice was the sweetest melody, a blanket that Chanyeol could wrap himself in. He would have listened to him all day long but it wasn’t the time for fancifulness.

“You sure have a way with words.” said Chanyeol, allowing himself to praise him for a moment.

“And I am sure you share the same brain cells with Jongdae.”

Chanyeol grumbled. “Hold on.” Furrowing his eyebrows, he raised his hands. “What did you mean you said you had no reason?”

"Oh, Jongdae didn't tell you." Baekhyun perplexed. "I am an orphan. No family, no acquaintance, no lover."

"No friend?"

"No friend."

"Jongdae said-"

"Jongdae said many things. I am positive I am not his friend anymore."

"What about me?" Chanyeol asked cheekily.

"You're an employee now." Baekhyun gave him a copy of the pub’s deed. "And as the business manager, I give you your first instructions. From now on, you will be responsible for the entertainment. Arrange a rehearsal with musicians. Now. I want to see an enthralling stage, so do the customers."

Baekhyun departed, imagining Chanyeol's silly face and making his major move in this chess-like game. He seized the flow of it, hoping this action of his could be seen as a ceasefire by Jongdae and expediting his departure without handicaps. 

*

Jongdae came to Baekhyun’s house, banging against his door furiously and calling at the top of his voice. 

“Open the bloody door, you shammer!”

How could Baekhyun do this to him? Those loathsome words he said still echoed in his head, taunting Jongdae's mistake about Baekhyun's pretence. They had to stay away from each other, still, Baekhyun bought Chanyeol's pub and with Chanyeol's visit, Jongdae had come to know everything like this.

Then the door opened. Baekhyun glanced at a seething Jongdae.

"Why did you buy the pub?"

Baekhyun didn't answer Jongdae at once.

“Are you deaf?” Jongdae ranted.

“Good evening to you too.”

“Fuck off!” Baekhyun had regarded Jongdae’s vulgar side as likely to happen. With his eyes on Jongdae, he reached his coat to get the original document. "I know you're rich as hell-"

As Baekhyun handed over the document, Jongdae was thunderstruck.

"What is this?"

"Open and see."

“Now you’re showing off-” Just when Jongdae opened and read it, trepidation in his voice. “This... This says the pub belongs to me.”

"Your reading is perfect, that's nice." 

"Why?" Jongdae wept.

"Take it as my last gift to you."

"But…" Snuffling and sobbing, Jongdae declared weakly. "You're not my friend anymore."

Baekhyun laughed. "I know. I pinned my hopes on you to take it, for the sake of good old times.”

“I can’t accept this.” Jongdae shook his head.

“If you don’t want it, you can sell to Mr. Park or someone else." Baekhyun suggested. "You wanted him to stay here." Adding softly, he continued. "With that, he can stay longer and loan sharks won’t be his concern anymore.”

“Loan sharks?!”

“Maybe you should go to your pub now.” Baekhyun pressed his lips together, holding back his laughter. 

“We will talk again later.” Remarking their conversation couldn't end like this, Jongdae folded the paper and put it into his coat pocket. When he ran from stairs, Baekhyun yelled behind him.

“You should check on Minseok too.”

“Minseok too?! Oh boy, I am going to kill both of them!”

* * *

Twenty five years ago, screams and grunts filled the bedroom of the big, luxurious mansion. There was a thick tension in the air. Maids were coming and going along the corridors, a doctor and a midwife were doing all they can, while Mr. Park paced back and forth outside of the room. As an ambassador of the Korean government, he had faced many complexities and crises and he felt capable but his wife’s suffering shook him to the core. 

“Take a deep breath, Madame Park.”

Mrs. Park did what she was told, her face shining because of sweat and the fire of the chimney. Her screech followed after her shaky gasp, gripping the sheets in despair. She prayed her birth would go well without problems and now, she felt as if each of her bones were breaking one by one, exhaustion pinning her to the bed.

Several hours later the doctor made an announcement with a smile on his face.

“Congratulations.” The baby cried and she breathed in relief. “It’s a boy.”

When the baby’s cries were heard, Mr. Park staggered into the room but his dread vanished as he saw his wife and the baby were fine. His wife gave him a weary smile, holding the baby in her arms.

“It’s a boy.” She whispered.

Mr. Park cried, thanking the doctor and midwife. The news spread in a few hours that, on a cold November day, the heir of the family, Park Chanyeol, was born.

The household was over the moon. 

Although the first couple of weeks were busy for the servants, preparations and congratulation messages made them forget the madness. With Korea under the Japanese rule, nothing was the same. As an ambassador of the government, Mr. Park witnessed the most, although he ensured his family and employees avoided this disruption as much as possible. Being mindful of his position and its merits, the Park family was one of the famous families in Seoul and the Park siblings grew up in a vivid, shielded glass house.

Park Yura, the first born and sister of Park Chanyeol, shared the similar features with her brother. A pair of wide, feline-like eyes, a slightly long, cute nose and a heartwarming smile. She was kind and quiet. Books and toys were her greatest interests. The dresses her mother sewed for her were her treasures and she cherished them dearly. People around Mrs. Park were envious of the beautiful little girl, praising her and her daughter.

And Park Chanyeol was the source of their joy.

The boy’s adorable ears and shining eyes were the attention grabbers of his appearance. His gestures and facial expressions brought a smile to people, a lovely dimple and beaming grin radiated warmth and happiness like sunshine. Surprisingly, he was well-mannered unlike his peers, and he doted on his sister more than anyone else. The Park couple were worried about the relationship between the siblings but their son’s personality set their minds at rest. 

As Chanyeol grew up, his parents believed they were blessed when they found out their son’s talents. He was a genius, his academic scores were perfect from the start and he has an exceptional tendency for music. 

Little Chanyeol was the embodiment of sublimity of every family’s dream.

Aware of his circumstance, Chanyeol was edgy about the envious and desirous gazes directed at him. But his parent’s encouragement and his sister’s support were his anchors. They always pampered him and he always followed their advice. 

It was a fairytale. 

They were living in a bubble, a little bit oblivious of the real world, regardless of how everything could change. 

Their glass house shattered in the end and it was the first trauma for them, colored in black and red.

As the years passed, the invasion got savagely violent in Korea and an entire generation was propelled to give in. Koreans were assimilated against their will by the Empire of Japan. It was forbidden to speak Korean in schools and universities. Many were forced to work under Japan or its other colonies, while women were dragged to the military brothels. Teaching history or unaccredited stories was a crime, authorities burned historical documents to destroy the national memory of Korea. 

Pillaging wasn’t restricted to just people as cultural symbols had their share. One of the important figures, Gyeongbokgung, the royal palace which was built in Seoul in 1395, was demolished mercilessly. The remaining places were turned into tourist attractions for Japanese visitors but Koreans never accepted their tyranny passively.

In their twenties, the Park siblings struggled between the view of their rose-colored glasses and the streets that were covered with a dark, dreary mist. Every corner had a gruesome story to tell, every look of the people hid unutterable catastrophe.

The sibling’s reaction to it was unalike, splitting them up for the first time and straining their bond to the bitter end.

After her education Yura was married off for her sake and she didn’t protest. Her plan before the arranged marriage was to attend the university but she knew circumstances won’t permit it for a long time. And her husband-to-be gave the impression of being a kind and affluent gentleman, putting her at ease . The marriage was registered straight away and the newly-wed couple left the country, owing to a connection of the spouse. There was no sign or sound of her until a note came in the mailbox of the Park’s mansion, only informing the family about her new address.

Then, an acceptance letter from England changed Parks’ spirit.

Chanyeol’s tutor had confidence in the young man’s intelligence and the tutor’s efforts didn’t remain inconclusive. The University of Glasgow offered a scholarship and double major for Chanyeol. The old couple wept for joy, finalizing the preparations and sending their son to England.

Chanyeol was down in the dumps before, not able to bring himself to forgive his sister’s act and being alone at home. Later, the envelope with his name written on it changed his mind and even the long journey to the Queen’s land didn’t stop his thrill. Stepping into this unfamiliar territory, Chanyeol sensed this new chapter of his journey would be a milestone.

At the beginning, his days in England were the source of consternation. He couldn’t fathom being a businessman or statesman like his father. He wasn’t perfect or a genius either. There were people who were more clever and astounding than him. In his homeland, he was casted to a non-realistic role. Now in this foreign land, his confidence and truths were broken into pieces.

The realization carried a weight that no justification can counterfeit. He spent a lot of time in the library, dormitory and his room, suffocating himself with “what ifs” and “I wishes”. He felt pity for his idle days in Korea, getting into a snit about his parents’ attitude. With his mind in the unalterable past, the dejection pulled Chanyeol backward to an ambiguous present. 

Then one day, he had an epiphany.

Everything was a matter of perspective. His thoughts were not him and they gained control over him, restricting his capabilities. He had to control them, allowing this awareness to direct him to a way out. 

He was Park Chanyeol.

He was the golden child. 

He played his first song on the piano at five years old, and composed his first piece at seven. He could do this.

Studying hard, he double majored in music and history, graduated a year early and moved to London. In his letters for his family, he persuaded them that he would come back home soon but his intentions were the opposite. With a reference letter from his professor, he went to the University of London’s personnel affairs, doing an interview with the director for a desk job. The interview went well, he got the job and he met Jongdae there, his best friend. 

For two years he had worked in the university, taking post graduate courses but the academic world and his expectations didn’t meet. When he quit his job, he had his savings from his salary and the money that he got from selling his antique belongings. He wasn’t keen on working under someone anyway. He set his heart on staying in England indefinitely and setting up a business was the winning ticket to do it.

*

“I can’t believe it.”

Jongdae paced back and forth, his hands behind his back.

“What the hell is wrong with you Park Chanyeol!? Huh!?”

Chanyeol couldn’t follow anything after his moment with Byun Baekhyun who left him enamored as always. Also, Minseok and he were mindful of Jongdae’s rebuke but neither of them thought it would happen this soon.

“Loan sharks! Really?” Chanyeol grimaced. “And you, Kim Minseok.” Jongdae stopped abruptly, his chin jutting upward. “You could’ve phoned me from the damn hospital!”

Minseok and Chanyeol said nothing. In their group, Jongdae was the mother hen and now, he had to blurt out everything until he became free from his burdens.

Chanyeol was still at the pub back and Minseok came on the scene after his short nap, filling him in on recent events. Thereupon, Jongdae stormed in and two friends couldn't pluck up the courage to talk back because Jongdae had heard everything.

“I can fire you, you know? This pub is mine now!" Minseok and Chanyeol raised their eyebrows. "Yes! Yes, I'll do that! You’re fired!”

They stood in their places blankly, making an effort to absorb the information.

“Get out of here! You're fired! ” Jongdae pointed at Chanyeol. “You can go back to your lovely family home and you…” Minseok wasn’t offended. “I am certain that your crew will greet you with open arms.”

“Sorry for interrupting but can you elaborate on it please?” Jumbled thoughts gave Chanyeol a headache. 

“None of us are illiterate.” Jongdae jeered, pulling the deed from his pocket. “Do you want me to read-”

Chanyeol called back, completely throwing off the idea of behaving nicely. "Give it to me." As he read, his eyes bulged. “...the purchaser Jongdae Kim.” His voice washed thin with desperation and Minseok whistled.

“At least, he was honest unlike some people I know.” Jongdae ridiculed. “I don’t understand. Why are people letting me down?”

“Oh, Jongdae. No.” Chanyeol scooped a crying Jongdae up in his arms. “I never do that.” He hugged his friend, patting his head delicately. 

“Jongdae.” With a tight voice, Minseok finally responded. “I don’t know what happened between you and Baekhyun but we should be grateful.”

“Minseok, he-” Jongdae whispered with obvious mortification. 

“Please listen.” Minseok shifted, Jongdae’s comments above his perception. “You didn’t see the mess in here. You didn’t see my injuries and thank God for that.” Jongdae dashed away his tears. “I will be pushing up daisies if I never run across Baekhyun.”

“Heaven forbid!”

“Amen to that. I am too young to die.” Minseok made his way to the door. “You can’t expect everyone’s attitude will be the same or similar to yours, Jongdae. Byun is not the villain in our story. Bear that in mind.”

Their minds muddled, Jongdae and Chanyeol watched Minseok step through to the street indifferently. Jongdae cried his heart out for a while, Chanyeol’s hand calming him as he hugged him tightly.

“I hate him,” said Jongdae, sniffling and straightening his back. 

“I don’t,” Chanyeol teased, earning a slap from Jongdae. “He saved my arse, Jongdae. I owe him now. And he said ‘Oscar Wilde captures my favors.’ ” Chanyeol’s parroting made Jongdae grin.

“Angels in heavens, you sound like you are head over heels in love.”

“He’s out of our league, Dae. You know this.”

“I know.” Jongdae agreed. “He… Baekhyun is hiding something. And it is the reason he pushes me away.”

Close-mouthed, Chanyeol adjusted Jongdae’s hair. “I am sorry, Jongdae.”

“Why?” Jongdae held Chanyeol’s hand.

“If I-”

“It’s not your fault.” Jongdae’s teary eyes held affection. “Each day has enough trouble of its own. And, do not say, ‘Why were the old days better than these?’ ”Chanyeol wanted to argue, to shake him hard and to send him home. But he lost the chance of standing for himself, his previous acts tied himself with stagnation. “We will work hard and pay his money back. Trust me in this, hmm?”

Chanyeol nodded, helping him to stand up. “Your wife must be worried about you.”

“She knows.” They both laughed. “Clean this place as much as you can. Tomorrow will be remarkable.”

Jongdae was correct.

The next day was remarkable.

Chanyeol was checking the inventory, writing down the deficits. Waking up earlier that day, he had a nice breakfast and felt chuffed as he cleaned every spot he could reach first, then fixed the broken furniture with his own hands. Jongdae and Baekhyun came, their boots thundering hastily and parading the contrast of calmness and variability.

"Good morning Mr. Park." Baekhyun touched his gray Panama hat, looking more dashing with his black coat and thick scarf. The weather was freezing that day. Still and all, Chanyeol wasn’t cold. He felt hot, a soft red coloring his cheeks and Baekhyun’s raspy voice only fanned the flames. “I hope I am not cutting in.”

“Oh, no Mr. Byun.” Chanyeol put the paper and small pencil in his back pocket. “Good morning.”

"Can you duplicate the key for Mr. Kim?" Catching the formality, Chanyeol glazed Jongdae. Jongdae had a neutral look on his face but he was caught flat-footed too. "And we need to hire people."

"Mr. Byun.” Jongdae stated. “We-"

"I am the manager, so, there's no bother to think about payments and expenses." Baekhyun announced. “We have to drum up the business.” He unbuttoned his coat, holding out the plans that he jotted last night. “Go through the plan together.”

“Why me?” Jongdae commented.

“You are the owner.” Baekhyun went on. “I can’t leave you out in this. Mr. Park desires to stay here, and that adds another reason to my list.”

“What list?”

“Charity list.” Baekhyun checked his wrist watch, stretching his lips a little bit and Chanyeol smiled too, cheeks dimpled. “I am afraid I can’t stay longer. I have to be at the university in ten minutes.” Before he turned his back, he revealed. “I will stop by every night. I expect you and Minseok to give your reports.” Chanyeol was wildly enthusiastic about the new appointment. On the other hand, Jongdae sulked, insecurity lurking in his head. “For the rest, we will discuss at a later time.”

When Baekhyun walked off, Chanyeol’s voice boomed.

“You are not going?”

“I took a day off.” Jongdae seated himself on a bar chair. “This is collage all over again.” Rubbing his temple, he surmised. “Let me see those papers.”

“Sure.” 

“When is Minseok coming?”

“In the afternoon.” Chanyeol pushed the papers to Jongdae, sliding them on the smooth counter in a flash. “Is he… Is he really coming tonight?”

“Yes.” Jongdae delved Baekhyun’s handwriting. “He is as good as his word.”

Baekhyun did stop by the place every night.

He followed every step of the bar employees and disciplined everyone, speaking with a rapid and smooth clarity. Occasionally, he only talked to Chanyeol and Chanyeol looked at him attentively, engraving everything about him in his memory.

"Chanyeol."

It was one of these moments that his savior’s attention and gaze were directed to him. “Mmm?” Chanyeol’s gaze snapped back to Baekhyun’s face, shoving his dream about Baekhyun to somewhere back in his mind. 

"Keep it up."

Baekhyun’s honey voice resonated in his ears, downturned eyes that retained a possession of his secrets glimmered faintly when they met his hazy gaze.

“Okay.” Forcing his gaze to the floor, Chanyeol picked up the empty glasses on the small tables. He felt Baekhyun’s eyes on his back, disheartened about the thing he wanted to hear.

“You have more than you give yourself credit for.”

Chanyeol peeked up at Baekhyun.

It was his first time to play piano all over again. His piano teacher, Mrs. Aros said this to Chanyeol with a smile, his charm and diligence left a mark on the tutor.

_You have more than you give yourself credit for, Mr. Park._

“Thank you.”

His pulse thrummed as Baekhyun whisked away, bewitching him with his exceptional beauty and grace. He was his Psyche, so special that any language could describe or praise it. And he was Eros, forgetting to carry out his goal but had no power like those Gods.

“Psyche, huh?” Minseok coughed at the door. He disliked the name of Ocean View greatly and now, he was enjoying the new sign of the pub.

_Psyche_

Minseok confessed to himself that Chanyeol was a clever kid, wishing this change would be good for them.

* * *

“Mr. Byun?”

“Yes, Ms. Albertson?”

The young woman seemed dispirited. Everyone in the class left but she stayed, seeking an answer for the rumor she heard early in the morning. There was always rumor or misinformation through the grapevine at university, however this time, her friends witnessed that a few boxes had been carried by two men from Baekhyun’s office.

Also, his office was almost empty.

Although today was no different than any other day. Revising the topics and giving his notes to class, a glint shone briefly in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“And that’s it for today.”

Everyone bid their farewells while Baekhyun tidied up his materials, jolly steps resounded here and there. His bitter reality tugged at his heart, masking himself on time with honed-to-perfection skill.

“Is it true? Was today’s lecture your last session?”

Baekhyun’s gaze dipped to hers and he nodded his head, choosing silence and closing his books on the rostrum. A sob escaped from his scholar’s lips, making Baekhyun pout a little.

“Please don’t cry, Ms. Albertson.” 

“I am sorry Mr. Byun, I just…” She refused his handkerchief, drying her tears with her hands. “You are the only lecturer who treats us like-”

“Normal people?”

“Yes.” The young lady’s laughter tinkled in the empty classroom. “Most lecturers are entirely full of themselves and their opinions. But you are…” She grasped her books harder with one hand. “Thank you, Mr. Byun. Thank you so much.”

Her sincere appreciation made him feel deeply moved.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“You taught me not to lose hope, Mr. Byun.” Her shy smile was one of a kind. “I had lost my hope about everything and everyone long ago. You gave it back to me and now, I have a goal to achieve.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Baekhyun went down from the highest place in the classroom, reaching out his hand that held his books.

“Mr. Byun.” Her eyes wide, she only blinked a few times. “I can’t take them.”

“My best scholar deserves more than this.” Baekhyun’s books had great value, being the only and original copy. “It is a gift from me.”

“Goodness gracious.” She took Baekhyun’s books, amazement lighting her face. “I… Thank you again.”

“Take care, Ms. Albertson.”

“You too, Mr. Byun.”

The walls and bookshelves were all barren, the men he hired already did their jobs when he arrived at his office. He avoided stating his departure, knowing everyone would turn into this an ado. Forgery was the utmost insult to him, even though it was regarded as a white collar crime, to Baekhyun it was a repulsive side of mortal’s nature.

As he stared at the lifeless scene in front of his eyes, it triggered his memory of his in the palace.

Affliction. Despondency. Fear. Gashes.

The Second World War had started officially. The government knew that Germany would begin an assault on London in their bombing raids which was a part of their military strategy. Putting into action its evacuation plans, authorities shifted most children, teachers and caregivers to safe places. There was no bombing so far and most returned. For not affecting the war effort and devastating the nation’s morale, the Englishmen were well prepared and the threat was forgotten.

Baekhyun sent everyone off to the countryside for their safety. Jongdae, Minseok, Chanyeol and other employees wouldn’t follow Baekhyun’s instructions at first, wanting to come back and get back to work. Later, the news spread. Upcoming danger was inevitable and they put their trust in Baekhyun because he never let them down. 

Besides, the business expanded as they burnt the midnight oil to earn more. That change of pace brought them more than they planned. Chanyeol’s part in the matter was indisputable, and the money wasn no longer a concern. 

Wearing his trench coat, Baekhyun checked the office for the last time. Closing the door, he gave his office key to the secretary of the faculty and nearly ran in his desire to vacate, fingers shaking in woe.

Packing his clothes was more baffling. The misapprehension of being ephemeral and the fantasy of love deceived him and threw him off, giving him every reason to be mad at himself.

An accursed man like him never had a right to live and barge into other people’s lives.

Baekhyun closed his two suitcases, his heart sped at the memory of his first encounter with Jongdae. He could forecast actions, the flow, but he couldn’t do it this time.

_“No! No! Let me go!”_

_“Cassandra!”_

_The temple. Her holler. T_ _he seashore. The man who took her away._

_The boat became a small dot in the middle of the ocean._

Baekhyun opened his eyes. His knuckles turned into white as he grabbed his suitcases harder. 

“I should’ve left already.”

He descended the circling stairs, hailing a cab and asking the driver to head to the train station. 

_Nobody believes me but… You do and I am eternally grateful, Alexo._

_I always believe you, your highness. No matter what others say, I never stop believing you._

When he stood in the train station after the short taxi ride, flashbacks attacked him violently.

_The shouts of families ripped apart. His weapons that had been thrown aside._

_His stinging knees. His blood-shot eyes and a smeared face._

As he pounded into the section, the howl of a commanding voice resonated in the place.

“Don’t!”

Baekhyun froze as Chanyeol ran to him.

“Please don’t go!”

Chanyeol put his hands onto his kneecaps, knees bent slightly and took deep breaths. The conductor came to them, asking for Baekhyun's luggages and ticket.

"He's not going." Chanyeol's growl overrode the man's word.

The conductor rolled his eyes, leaving them alone and Baekhyun put his belongings aside.

“What are you doing here?” Baekhyun had no idea how he could speak at that moment. “Why aren’t you at the safe place?”

Chanyeol panted his plea out. “There must be a reason.”

“You are wasting my time-”

“You give excuses." Holding Baekhyun's arm, Chanyeol beseeched. "Groundless distractions. An actor's line. There must be a reason why you are still here.”

_Why are you with me, guard? There must be a reason._

_It is my duty, your highness. To protect you._

"My reasons are not what you think, Park Chanyeol." 

Baekhyun wasn't a fool, he knew Chanyeol had feelings for him. His eyes, face, words… Everything exposed his feelings but Baekhyun couldn't love him.

Nobody could resurrect his buried heart.

“What about love?” For a moment, Chanyeol saw Baekhyun’s agony. “Baekhyun, I-”

“No.” Baekhyun’s voice was harsh. “No. You don’t love me. You can’t love me.”

"You're not even allowing me to say it!" Swinging himself, his voice raised. "I know you don't feel the way I do, I'm not that ignorant. I told myself so many times I have to hold back but I can't. I can't do that anymore."

Chanyeol would regret it if he had to let Baekhyun go without hearing his confession. Having many regrets in his life, he didn't want another to afflict him and hung on to a frail hope that this confession would change Baekhyun's mind.

"You don't know what you are saying." Baekhyun disagreed. "You are a damn kid-"

"Kid?!" Chanyeol's laughter was grievous. "Maybe I am. To you, I am a damn kid! What about you? You are a coward Byun Baekhyun!”

They were two gentlemen who dueled in the love zone, holding their malicious words as their guns and bullets were their decisions. In the end, one of them would lose the duel and open the fresh scars, wallowing over the loss.

“Oh, now am I a coward?” Baekhyun sneered at him.

"You only push everything and everyone away!” His voice strident, Chanyeol pointed his forefinger at him. "Have you ever thought if you had left your ivory tower, everything would've changed?"

"It wouldn't.” Baekhyun was nearly in tears. “Even if I tell you, you wouldn’t understand. It's not that simple."

"Dear God…” Chanyeol looked like thunder. “I never dare to think there's a single thing about you that can be labeled as simple, my angel." 

Baekhyun held his breath. Many people passed by, engrossing themselves in the drift of time. 

"I love you." Chanyeol confessed, taking a step to him and holding his hands delicately. “I love you Byun Baekhyun and you can’t go anywhere.”

Baekhyun groaned, not knowing whether to burst into tears or shove him away. To him, love was a drive down the road to an empty dead end. There was attraction, an affinity, but returning Chanyeol’s feelings would only force them to drift apart.

“You don’t know me, Chanyeol. You don’t know what I had been through. You are so young and you can’t-”

The desire to kiss Baekhyun was overwhelming and Chanyeol’s heart beat faster as he drew Baekhyun’s pale pink lips to his own. Baekhyun felt a swirl of helplessness, a flooding warmth when Chanyeol kissed him softly first, then with passion. His cheeks were so smooth against Chanyeol's rough hands, then Chanyeol threaded his fingers through Baekyun's silky hair without breaking the contact. The petite man's slender but strong hands curled into the tall man's shirt, never running away from the kiss.

His eyes were closed when Chanyeol pulled his head back a little.

“Stay.” He said, the thought of him never seeing Baekhyun again making him nauseous. “Stay with me. Please.”

“I…”

_Stay with me._

A siren’s song. 

_Stay with me._

Chanyeol’s plea and Cassandra’s entreaty blended as they lured Baekhyun’s mind into white lies and believable probabilities. A small voice in Baekhyun’s head warned him, preventing his lips’ movement to say an answer, however Baekhyun was spellbound.

“I will.”

In Homer’s Odyssey, the Greek hero Odysseus, was able to escape from sirens and their songs by waxing his ears and tying himself to the mast of the ship. After that, those singing enchantresses hurled themselves into the sea and were drowned, a cause of his resistance.

Still, Baekhyun fell into the trap, in the same way as those sailors did who passed by the siren’s islands, and subsequently, to their doom.

* * *

Baekhyun stayed.

He stayed with Chanyeol until that certain day. And Chanyeol was happy, determined to sweep Baekhyun off his feet. Sending a note to the others, he explained he was fine and he had to stay in the capital for a while because of his personal business. In the rural places, it wasn’t easy to use a telephone and he was relieved when his friend’s note came to the pub's address. 

Don’t worry, Park. Stay safe and be careful there.

“Well.” Chanyeol folded the note and put it into his pocket. “We don’t have to stay here.”

Baekhyun’s reaction was timid when they were in the pub. Baekhyun sat on a bar chair while Chanyeol read the note.

“What are you going to do?”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were in this together.”

Baekhyun held his head in his hands as Chanyeol sat beside him and cupped Baekhyun’s face. “Look at me, Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol saw fear and heartache in his eyes. “I will take care of you. I will protect you.” Caressing Baekhyun’s cheek with his thumb, he voiced. “I admit I never thought you would stay.” His lips curled upwards. “But you did and… Now I feel like I can conquer the world.”

Baekhyun’s heart danced in his chest when he felt Chanyeol’s sincerity.

“All I ask is a chance.” Chanyeol had a lump in his throat. “If… If you can’t love me, then I will let you go.”

Maybe it was the promise or the eventuality of Baekhyun’s freedom. But Baekhyun had to know. 

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“That’s who I am.” Chanyeol laughed. “And I trust myself. You said it once, I have more than I give myself credit for.”

Allowing Chanyeol to hold him, Baekhyun smiled and stared at the ghost of Cassandra in Chanyeol’s eyes. 

*

Some interpretations were contradictory, just as people. Each part of them made up a whole “they”, facing challenges, growing through life, and helping them to handle. Elucidations of Baekhyun and Chanyeol about each other were stumping, and little by little, a bond of understanding had formed between them.

Chanyeol wasn’t only a love-struck young man. He was cheerful and had many friends from all walks of his life. His easygoing side helped him to get along well with both genders: Also, many people from distinct groups like artists, writers, business people, and officers who were his friends and customers at the same time surrounded him. As a chatterbox, he started and led the conversations, becoming the center.

Baekhyun exuded an air of impatience, even if it wasn’t his intention, and his cleverness intimidated people. He was mostly alone and loved to read a lot. Intellectual debates and exchanging ideas cheered him up. He felt accomplished when he left something long-lasting that endures over time behind him. It was the primary reason he chose an academic career in the second quarter of the twentieth century. His facility with words was an incredible asset, even though there could be times when it can identify with his mental agility.

Chanyeol had a disdain for routine. On the way, he bounced in non-identical alleys and streets, perusing the details he never laid his eyes on before and enjoying the noteworthy. He never hesitated to learn something new, and to him, it wasn't an onerous duty. 

His approach to everything was honest, preferring to find the good in everyone and everything frequently. He loved to scribble the ideas and inspirations in the meetings, including each of them into the plans; however, he was tactless when he offered opinions.

To Baekhyun, the routine was an anchor that made him feel grounded. Unplanned things were so miraculous for the mortals, but they weren’t romantic or striking. They brought his downfall each time, fiercely and brutally. He was witty and charming, but there was an underlying restlessness inside his mind, making continuity a back-breaking action for him.

When he wanted to, he was so humorous. He enjoyed mimicking others sometimes, and when he did it, it was phenomenal. This action was also the perfect way to break down the unapparent and cold walls built between Baekhyun and them.

They spent most of their time in Baekhyun’s house after their conversations in the pub. Baekhyun didn’t bother to sell or bring the furniture with him when he tried to leave, so it was the only option they had at that moment. Baekhyun always woke up early, getting his breakfast from the bakery and never going out of the room unless there was an emergency or he needed to go to the library. Chanyeol wasn’t an early bird. Unlike Baekhyun, he enjoyed staying in the other bed for a while. He prepared his breakfast himself, adoring the new utensils of the kitchen and the view. 

Tidying up the house, cleaning the floor, or doing the laundry wasn’t a matter. Baekhyun gave the name and address of a cleaning woman to Chanyeol, arranging their schedule to hers so either side won't disturb the other". The lady did her duty, taking her payment in cash every time, and Chanyeol befuddled how well-to-do Baekhyun was.

At times, they sat together in the living room, listening to the radio and talking about things. Those moments were blessings to Chanyeol. Hearing Baekhyun’s voice and ideas was an eye-opening experience. Baekhyun wasn’t deceiving him when he said he was older than Chanyeol, and Baekhyun’s words signified what he lived through, something Chanyeol couldn’t decipher.

On the other hand, Baekhyun was happy, Chanyeol was an enthusiastic listener. He never hesitated when he asked his questions or did something disrespectful. 

Even if Baekhyun touched Chanyeol on raw by mentioning his heartfelt pain — Chanyeol was wretched with it.

“When we first met.” Baekhyun stated. “You sang _Purple Dreams_.”

“Ah, yes.” Chanyeol looked at Baekhyun, chuckling. “I really liked the song when I heard it. Musicians were talking about the song too.” His long hair fell onto his eyes, refreshing his memory for getting a haircut. “Let’s say the opportunity to sing was there for me to grab it.”

“We’ll always meet…”

“... here in my purple dreams.” They chorused, a wave of heat brushing Chanyeol’s cheeks and Baekhyun’s eyes radiating an elation.

“Who broke your heart, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun’s silvery voice switched on the tenseness in the room.

“He…” Chanyeol pondered, his voice full of nostalgia. “He was beautiful. Just like you.” Baekhyun’s cheeks tinted with pink after the sudden compliment. “I met him here, in London, before you.”

Baekhyun bit his lips as he noticed the longing and fondness in Chanyeol’s expression. Chanyeol turned to him, fingers touching Baekhyun’s cheek. 

“I was so affected by him, I couldn’t think of anything else. I thought the sun rose and set on him.” He pulled his warm, enormous hands and Baekhyun trembled with cold. “But he left me.”

“I am so sorry to hear that.”

“He just said his family wouldn’t accept the reality and reject us.” Chanyeol repeated, voice reeking with disapproval. “This was an excuse, of course, my family wouldn’t either.” He continued, absently brushing his dark hair with his partly calloused fingers. “Damn, my mom probably arranged blind dates for me with a woman as soon as I stepped foot into the mansion.” His laughter tinkled as he folded his arms on his chest. “If I told them I am not into women… Lord, they would be furious. Forever.” He raised his hands, holding them side to side. “Imagine the headline. The only heir of the great Park family likes men.”

Baekhyun lifted his eyebrows. “Such a shame.” His moist lips formed an enigmatic smile as Chanyeol’s eyes lit up like fireworks in the sky like fireworks in the sky.

“Why would it be a shame even though it helped me to get a ‘Yes.’ from you?”

* * *

Their flirtation had begun as a few bantering remarks. A sense of playfulness and irony set up their sentences; eye contact and brief touches played their part as the physical side, making them crave for more. Conversations and imitating honed their bond, waves of laughter and teasing tinged their dull, black days.

Then little touches led them to passionate kisses; those kisses turned into lovemaking and they slept in each other’s arms. The big bed became a bridge back to one another, another place that they always met.

But it wasn't enough. Affection was there, but expectations and eliminating the impossible were improbable.

Baekhyun never saw the real Chanyeol, and Chanyeol hated the black blotch in Baekhyun’s eyes.

Cassandra was there, inside of Chanyeol, looking at Baekhyun with love that he would only witness in his dreams. The beauty of King Priam’s daughter was hidden in Chanyeol’s features; her purity and kindness coated his behaviors. That blind faith in people and the world almost convinced Baekhyun that Cassandra was reborn again with Chanyeol, but this was far from the truth.

Cassandra and Chanyeol were two distinct, splendid creatures.

Chanyeol was on a knife-edge, doubting himself and hating the intentions behind those looks directed to his lover. Baekhyun drew attention wittingly or unwittingly, and Chanyeol judged his love with Baekhyun's unspoken feelings in the trial of his heart. This showdown tired his soul and mind, feeding suspicion of doubt called the green-eyed monster.

He abhorred this. Not having Baekhyun for himself, Baekhyun's excellence, hidden reminders of his nightmares that ended up being abandoned. and never hearing a confession about Baekhyun’s feelings.

This rift deepened after an encounter, an action of the Moirai. As Clotho spun the thread of their life after Lachesis measured its dissipated length, and Atropos cut it off with her shears.

*

A young woman stared at the sign of the pub, slumping her shoulders and exhaling.

“I should’ve sent a letter or note.” She said to herself, feeling frustrated. She turned around as the well-tailored, dark blue silk dress swished around her knees elegantly and stressed the tall figure. Her white belt matched with her shoes, and it was placed slightly above mid torso, making her waist appear narrower.

“Maybe I should write something. Or I can ask the neighbours.”

Gloved fingers moved in the simple handbag for finding her small notebook and the pencil; the brooch she pinned to her beret shone under the daylight as she lowered her head. 

“How can I help you, miss?”

She flung back, startled by the man’s airy and gruff voice.

“I apologize, sir. I have no ill intentions…” Young woman’s hasty attempt to make the situation clear turned into a question. “Chanyeol?”

“Yura?” Chanyeol couldn’t believe what he saw. “Is that you?”

“Hello, little brother.” Her breezy voice raised in a high-pitched tone as she hugged him, her frame disappearing within Chanyeol’s chest.

Chanyeol stood there awkwardly, putting his hand on her back clumsily. “Hello, sister."

"I missed you.”

“I…” Chanyeol hugged him too, unmindful of a witness who was watching them from afar. “I missed you too.”

“I am so sorry, Chanyeol.” A tear slid down from Yura’s cheek as her hold got tighter. “I should’ve-”

“It’s alright, Yura.” Chanyeol stroked her back soothingly. “I’m not mad at you.”

“I’m glad.” Yura asked when she pulled back and stared at her brother’s face. “Is this place yours?”

“Yes. And no. It’s a long story.” Chanyeol put his hand in his pockets, glancing to the _Psyche_ sign briefly. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“My husband’s business trips.” Yura said, dismissively. “Aren’t you going to invite me?”

“Pub is closed. But we can go somewhere else and drink tea.”

“So British. I thought I could taste a few cocktails.”

The siblings laughed as they walked to the apartment, catching up with reassurance and laughter-filled stories first. They stayed there just a little bit upon Yura’s insistence. Then, upon Yura's persistence, Chanyeol gave her a London tour while he acted as a tour guide and Yura never let go of his hand, laying out a look of a couple for people who caught a glimpse of their interaction.

*

“Baekhyun?”

Chanyeol called him as he hung his jacket on the hanger. Today was fantastic for him. Spending time with his sister and exchanging their contact information made him feel blissful. He skipped into the house, his eyes shining like stars, his nose wrinkling cutely and his lips lifting upwards for a luminescent smile.

“Baekhyun?”

A door opened, and Baekhyun revealed himself with a distracted look on his face. 

“I’m here. Is something wrong?”

Chanyeol veered toward Baekhyun, examining his face with a puzzled gaze. “No.” Getting a whiff of an alcohol smell, he bent over to Baekhyun. “Are you okay?” 

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun said, honestly. “I think I never was." He slurred. "Maybe I am now. Or I deluded myself.”

“Are you drunk?” Chanyeol asked, undaunted.

“No, I am tipsy.” Baekhyun said dismissively.

“We need water." Chanyeol gave his arm to Baekhyun, avoiding to pry further. “And coffee. Are you sure that you’re okay?”

“Where is my bottle?” Baekhyun pulled his arms to himself and walked away from Chanyeol. “I am sure I left it somewhere here.”

Chanyeol trailed behind him as his mind moved through the small list of possibilities. Baekhyun despised alcohol and drunkenness. In the pub, he never tolerated the people who crossed the line and had too many g's and t's. He never drank alcohol either, saying he couldn't hold the drink. Also, there was no alcohol in the home, Chanyeol couldn't help but guess.

“Did you buy alcohol?”

“You are asking so many questions, sweetheart.” Baekhyun found his whiskey bottle in the kitchen and grabbed a glass. As he poured the gold-colored beverage, he appeased. “Give me a break, I have your answers.”

Chanyeol's face contorted in an attempt to smother his laughter. Surely, drunk Baekhyun was entertaining, but his words alarmingly accused Chanyeol. 

"Now tell me.” With a stern smile on his lips, Baekhyun countered after drinking half of his glass. “Was it he, really? Or she? I can see you enjoyed it so far.”

“What is it, exactly, that, you are asking me, Baekhyun?” In the middle of the kitchen, Chanyeol stood aghast. Two assumptions were chasing each other in his head, offensive and unthinkable.

“I think she might be someone you know. Someone who might be looking for you now. To reconnect.” Baekhyun was calm. But Chanyeol was ruffled.

“Are you asking me if I’ve been unfaithful, Baekhyun?" Chanyeol said, disapproval thickening his voice. The absurdity of the situation struck him hard."Is that what you think of me?”

In this sentimental attachment and dangerous gambit, his soul had been pierced as the reason for his bitterness became clear to Chanyeol.

Baekhyun would never love him back, even though he had revealed his sister's identity and explained everything. 

He had to let Baekhyun go.

“Oh no, sweetheart.” Baekhyun drank the remainder, his glass completely empty in his hand. “You are...” He put his glass on the counter, his impassiveness disturbed Chanyeol a lot. “You are too honest for this.”

Baekhyun turned off the lights before he left. “I will wait for you in the bed, Chanyeol. Good night.”

"Good night."

Chanyeol always said, "Good night, my angel." declaring his love in his way but this time he couldn't bring himself to say it. In the bed, they didn’t seek out and find each other again. Chanyeol curled into the thick blanket, his tears falling down quietly as he blinked, and Baekhyun never slept as the obstacle presented itself.

Unaware that the following day would bring damnation and disruption to their harmony, the lovers spent the night together for the last time in that house, memories of that evening were still crystal clear in their minds.

*

On that certain day, the war was the last thing on Londoners’ minds. They went to the sea sides, enjoying the sun and weekend when nearly one thousand German planes were crossing the channel to reach their target, London and London’s ports, which was the heart of a great empire.

Saturday, the 7th of September in the late afternoon sky, it was easy to mistake the silver glints for maneuvers of the Royal Air Force until an unusual sound was heard. Hundreds of tons of high explosive bombs rained down, bringing the magma-red fire and carnal-black mist to the ground. It was destruction and truculence with horrifying shades while whishing sirens warned Londoners about attacks but it was too late.

For over nine hours, communal shelters kept the British safe mostly as they listened. The bombs fell closer when a few rural places were considered as lucky for getting less damage. Unfortunately, it was a small part of the composition that was contoured with famine, depression and attacks. A scene of the societies in the most egocentric, bloodstained test throughout the history of mankind.

Firemen were dealing with numerous fires due to incendiary attacks when Baekhyun was on the street, running and crying. He hadn't seen Chanyeol since the morning and until now Chanyeol was nowhere to be found. He had to find Chanyeol and bring him to a safe place. 

“What have I done?” His screams were drowned in the noise. “What have I done?”

Baekhyun was aware he hurt Chanyeol, broke his heart, and shattered his hopes. Yesterday he watched Chanyeol from afar, witnessing how Chanyeol was happy and glowing, more than when he was with Baekhyun.

He couldn’t recall anything apart from his pounding steps, anger, and regret. He had stormed into the house, snatching the whiskey bottle that he hid long ago in the case. Chanyeol was still on cloud nine till Baekhyun’s rambling wiped out Chanyeol’s euphoria.

“I should’ve set him free.” Baekhyun admitted to himself, weeping. “I condemned his freedom.”

Debris rustled while fires crackled while the spread fires crackled, engulfing everything inside in coal and ash, and Baekhyun took a series of quick breaths.

This was more vivid than his first battle.

He knew that this long and terrifying night was only the beginning of the long tragedy.

Sweat rolled down from his temple while he searched for Chanyeol through the corners and hills. Everything around him was nothing but a twist of violence, a venomous motion. Dusty air mixed with the pungency of the iron as the demolished wrecks were crumbling into dark gray stacks.

“I can’t lose him.” He choked. “I can’t. I…”

Baekhyun’s blood pounded in his ears deafeningly. Before stumbling harshly, his sobbings broke the muted moment.

“Chanyeol…”

Park Chanyeol was laying down on the road, blood and ashes covering all of his body.

Baekhyun crawled to him, a knot forming in his throat. He kneeled behind Chanyeol after a few seconds as the blood was still warm and slick, staining him awfully.

He had seen many people die countless times; he recognized the signs of a fatal wound. Even while his mind was telling Baekhyun that Chanyeol wouldn’t make it, he was snatching Chanyeol into his arms and caressing his face with his fingers.

Chanyeol’s ears rang with explosions, distinct murmurs and voices gave him a headache. Something heavy pinned him down to the road and Chanyeol couldn't feel his lower body at all. 

He felt a pair of arms supporting his shoulders, and he caught a glimpse of Baekhyun from his half-closed eyes.

My angel...

Chanyeol wanted to open his eyes properly, raising his hand to wipe away the tears on his angel’s cheek.

Angels never cried, coated with dirt and sweat.

“Baekhyun.” said Chanyeol only, his voice strangled.

“I am so sorry Chanyeol.” Baekhyun cried and kept going to caress him. “I am so sorry sweetheart.”

“Why…” Chanyeol gulped. “Why are you crying?”

Baekhyun always smiled, helped and gave him strength when Chanyeol felt he hit the rock bottom and now his angel was crying.

 _I don’t deserve you_ , Baekhyun thought as he leaned closer to Chanyeol, his cheek touching Chanyeol’s temple.

Chanyeol’s breath paused when he parted his lips again, whispering a three-word-confession.

I love you.

Closing his lids with relief this time, Chanyeol looked at peace and his skin changed into an ugly, cold gray while Baekhyun cried harder, pressing a kiss to Chanyeol’s purple lips and leaving an eternal mark of his unvoiced love.


	2. Chapter 2

People disappeared for many reasons. Young lovers and children become distanced, running away from home and hoping this first step would be sufficient for the future they dreamed about. Mothers fought with the reality, torn between the ideal and trauma. Soldiers lost their lives, left letters that will never be sent to their addresses behind them.

All of them had a story to tell.

For fifty years Baekhyun had disappeared into a corner. In a way, burying himself in the passivity gave him an ability to escape from the present. Through the years, guilt, regret, and mourning stayed with him and ghosts of the past spoke to him without words but, a long time later, Chanyeol had a serene look on his face.

"This is his home." Baekhyun gestures to the bedroom. "Our home, actually. If he would hear I said his house…" Baekhyun's chuckle is weak. "He is different. He was.”

Sehun's masculine and strong cologne is still in the room, on his clothes and pillows. “He knew what would come, yet, he stayed with me until the end.”

* * *

Two men are in an alleyway, and the silver-haired guy’s gun is aimed at his target. As his rough fingers wrap around the trigger, his sharp eyes don't give any thoughts. 

“You can’t kill me.” His target speaks with a voice full of disgust.

“Trust me, I can.”

The sound of the gun echoes loudly and the other man snaps back. Blood is spreading from the dead man's chest to the ground and he doesn't move until he makes sure his target is down.

“I hate mess.” 

Oh Sehun slowly lowers his arm, the smoking gun still in his hand. His gaze is disappointed when the figure is lying on the ground and the familiar scent reeks. Gang members are damned nonsense, he thinks—almost as troublesome as psychos.

He touches his earpiece and gives his report. “Oh is speaking. Mission accomplished.”

Turning toward the car that waits for him, Sehun glances up at the weedy rays of sunlight. He still has time for sleeping before he begins the long day of work and the reports that wait for him on his desk.

*

Sehun has slept for five hours, nightmares haunting him nonstop and eventually giving up to stay in his bed. He shuffles to his bathroom, standing under the cold water to wake himself up. The clock shows 6.30 am when he dresses in his usual clothes - a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, changing for the season.

On his way to the police station, Sehun drags himself to a coffee shop. He buys his coffee, rewarding the barista with some tip for his night, and perfectly made coffee for Sehun every time without failure. (Sehun knows the coffee shop and workers’ schedule like the palm of his hand.) His last stop is the bakery. Pitching into his freshly baked bread, he walks as his long, sturdy legs change the tune of his feet into a bustling one.

In the police station, mornings are crappy, exhausting, and nice sometimes. Sehun finishes his bread as he marches into the hall, sipping his coffee and getting closer to his desk.

When he goes into the department, his colleague greets him.

"Good morning."

Sehun doesn’t greet him back, a scowl on his face.

“Bad day?”

"Hmmm." Sehun sips his coffee again, strong, black, and full of caffeine. It helps him to function until his shift ends, already kicking in his body.

“Zhang said the new member is coming today.” His colleague speaks again. His brunette tresses curl on his forehead, giving him a boyish charm and making an alluring contrast on his pale skin. “We might meet your future partner.”

Sehun groans and slams his head to his desk. “I can’t believe this.”

“Yeah, the chief wasn’t joking.” He smiles as his cheeks become apparent. He has heard from his partner that Zhang will show him around today. He stands up from the chair as the footsteps are coming closer.

“And there he is.”

Zhang prances into the office, a dark red-haired guy behind him, and talks, his hands moving in wild patterns. “This is our office. And yours, of course.” He steps aside when the dark red-haired guy greets everyone in the room with a bow, respectfully.

“Hello, I am Byun Baekhyun.”

“Welcome the team.” With best wishes, Zhang’s duty for the morning ends. He settles down as he extends his legs on his table.

“Kim Junmyeon.” Baekhyun turns his head to the brunette. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Thanks.” A smile dawns across Baekhyun’s face and Sehun raises his head, boring his eyes to Baekhyun.

Powering, cold, and almost unreadable. 

Oh Sehun’s aura radiates these however it’s not the only reason that Baekhyun raises an eyebrow at Sehun’s uncivil attitude. The smooth, unperturbed mask that draws up Sehun’s guise is one of Baekhyun’s masks, and he will deny it if he says that he doesn't know the camouflage.

“I thought Hun was the only one who dared to pick up bold colors.” Junmyeon thinks aloud, earning a leer from Sehun.

Sehun gets to his feet eventually, and Baekhyun thinks. _He is tall too, just like Chanyeol_. But it is the only resemblance between them.

Oh Sehun never smiles.

Perhaps it doesn't exist in his nature, or he doesn’t prefer it. A smile or anything close to a smile never seen so far in his features and exasperation builds up in Baekhyun’s stomach.

Shortly afterward, Baekhyun learns Sehun has a peculiar nickname that holds up his impassive look. His black eyes, his skills with guns and fists can freeze anyone in their tracks.

Azazel

It is the consensus about him. A man of style, yet with the above said angel’s charm.

“Meeting. In fifteen minutes.” 

The debate between Sehun and Baekhyun busts up when a man who wears glasses proclaims, his hands full of files.

“Really?” Junmyeon states his weariness to his partner and pinches his nose bridge. “Oh no.” He bleats when he catches on the files. “Don’t tell me-”

“Yes, we have another case.”

Junmyeon, Sehun, and Zhang heave a sigh while the newcomer turns his attention to Baekhyun. “Hello.” He puts the files onto a table that is near the door and puts out a hand to Baekhyun for a handshake. “I am Do Kyungsoo. The hacker. Kim Junmyeon’s partner.”

“Byun Baekhyun. The new guy.” Baekhyun shakes hands with Kyungsoo.

“Sure as eggs is eggs, the introduction wasn't complete.” Kyungsoo fixes his black browline glasses and glances at Zhang, dissatisfaction in his eyes. “Junmyeon hyung is the leader and my partner. Zhang Yixing is the vanguard. And your guide today.” 

“What about me?” Sehun asks, cynically.

“And Sehun is the trouble magnet.” Kyungsoo says, calmly.

“If I am the trouble magnet, Yixing hyung is our unicorn.” Kyungsoo snorts after Sehun's unimpressed response and his teammates’ welcome bothers Sehun. He hates Baekhyun already because he has seen many officers like Baekhyun. 

Conceited, weisenheimer and imposter.

“Let me cut it short.” Sehun parades until his enormous, rather intimidating height towers over Baekhyun. "Why are you here?"

Baekhyun answers simply. "I was transferred here." There is no hesitation or fright on his face. Junmyeon and Kyungsoo watch them with amusement, not concerning themselves about an interruption.

"This is not a table job, you know?" Challenging Baekhyun, Sehun comes near until their nose will touch. "You will be in the field. Operations, missions-"

"Are you trying to frighten me?" Baekhyun knits his eyebrows as he takes a step backward. "How old are you, Officer Oh?"

"E-Excuse me?" Sehun is thunderstruck, and Kyungsoo clears his throat to break the tension.

"Yes, Sehun. Baekhyun is also your hyung.” No matter how much he enjoys the row, someone has to stop this childishness. "And a sunbae.”

Gazing down into Kyungsoo’s brown eyes with an expression of unconcealed annoyance, Sehun repeats. "Sunbae?" 

"Finishing the academy with flying marks, two years in Special Operations after the graduation." Kyungsoo informs them. "Six years in Criminal Investigation." He looks at Junmyeon momentarily. "Do you remember the EXODUS case?"

"Yeah." Junmyeon confirms, confused. 

"He was the mastermind."

"What the…" Junmyeon exclaims. "You are Bian Buoxian?!"

"I am." Baekhyun confirms, feeling glad he didn’t use his actual name in that operation. Otherwise, it will be a disaster. "It is a nickname." He isn't flattered or enthusiastic and never comprehends why people are overstating it.

"Tell me every detail!” Junmyeon holds Baekhyun’s shoulder and shakes with passion. “My God! EXODUS case was-"

"Legendary." Yixing finished Junmyeon's words, waking up after his five minutes' nap with Junmyeon’s shriek. "Please Junmyeon, not now."

"He is Bian Buoxian!" Junmyeon says gaily, and Yixing almost falls off his chair.

"What?! Sh*t!"

* * *

Baekhyun drives his Audy, fingers tapping out a monotone rhythm. It has been three months since they transferred him to his new department and now, the wheels of his car spin on the vacant road, gliding the vehicle like a black, savage bird in the sky.

An aimless driving with the city lights is one of his favorite escapes. No purpose. No destination. A part of him slips away as he drives into a short escape, welcoming a sign of invisible courage for better days and unfamiliar promises. Now, this escape is not quiet and lonely. The sound of the engine and the melody from the radio are faintly blending as his thoughts range with the events.

After all those years, living with a new identity is still a challenge to Baekhyun. Especially in the twenty-first century. No matter how often he does, he can't bring clarity into his new episode. Because the twentieth-century is a redefinition of the world with an array of events overall. And the twentieth-first century is consumerism and more expeditious changes of people, society, and notions. 

Baekhyun's cycle still surprises him. It gives him a living humankind memory that continues to develop, standing between artificial and natural. Currently, he accumulates and sorts his experiences as a high-ranking police officer which is remarkable. And, it is too different from that of his previous jobs for sure. 

His current team, the most graceless police officers of public security dimension two, is doubtlessly unique. Kim Junmyeon, Do Kyungsoo, Zhang Yixing, and of course, Oh Sehun. A bizarre combination of four men. But they work together in harmony, making Baekhyun revise every mechanism he has involved so far. Also, he hesitates to count Sehun in the team because Baekhyun is undecided about him and his role.

Junmyeon is more than a team leader. He is a genius who has a kind soul, watching out for everyone's back. Kyungsoo labels himself as a hacker, but he is like a super glue that keeps them tightly and all together. Yixing is not a vanguard only. He is prescient and intrepid.

The recent addition, Baekhyun, is like a ghostwriter, a perfect match for himself and his position.

Last but not least, Oh Sehun is the youngest member, trouble magnet, and his partner.

A pair of perfect eyebrows, sharp eyes, a tall nose, and pink lips with a V-shaped face.

As a young man with finely chiseled features, Oh Sehun is like a different version of an Adonis sculpture. Moreover, he is an exceptionally marvelous metropolitan police officer. Brave, keen, immaculate, solemn, and unyielding. Regarding his performance and his work moralities, Sehun can be counted on the fingers of one hand. But his personality and his flaws tear down his visualized perfection, unbalancing the scale.

Sehun's gray hair is usually untouched, so Baekhyun believes it has never been combed by a hairbrush at all, needing a haircut very much. Sehun yawns or sleeps every time, his under-eyes darkening as the days pass. Baekhyun pities him and wonders what he has been through in his life.

He shows up in weird times during office hours, mocking Baekhyun about his height every time or annoys his teammates and he is as stubborn as a mule.

Baekhyun steps on the gas, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. From the windshield, stunning city lights appear as a radiating appreciation adorns his face. He treasures a few things in this life, and city lights are one of them. As a mini copy of stars in the canopy of heaven, they light the darkness and display a different version of a snowfall, pure and mesmerizing.

A faint, silver tint of the light and black reflection of Baekhyun’s car play with each other, and Baekhyun’s mind flows away to Oh Sehun a second time.

Much to his other teammates' weak protests, Sehun is aloof to Baekhyun. Maybe it's a side effect of Sehun's insomnia or a temporary mood, Baekhyun can't pinpoint. He tries to move forward to a peaceful set of a less contentious relationship. But Baekhyun's efforts face many hostile oppositions from Sehun. Eventually, Baekhyun leaves Sehun alone, persuading himself he is a colleague only.

Baekhyun touches the smart screen when his phone rings in the car, distracting himself once more.

"Hello, Mr. Byun." Old nun's voice is as quiet as a mouse.

"Hello, Sister Ahn." With Baekhyun's dubious voice, she speaks again.

"I had to be sure about tomorrow's-"

"I am so sorry, I couldn't call you." The confirmation gets in Baekhyun's hair. "Yes, I am coming tomorrow. Thank you for reminding me."

The quick phone conversation hinders his night drive when Baekhyun makes a U-turn on the road, planning his circle time with the kids in his mind and humming a nursery rhyme.

"Time to go, then."

On the weekends, Baekhyun teaches English to the kids in the orphanage voluntarily. After Junmyeon's proposal and a brief interview with the church, he plays his role as Baekkie Teacher or Puppy Teacher, distracting himself from his job's dreary side.

* * *

"Baekkie Teacher!"

“Baekkie Teacher is here!”

“Puppy Teacher!”

Baekhyun gets out of his car, holding an enormous box in his hands.

“What is it, Baekkie Teacher?” The owner of the intrigued voice is Sungjin, a five-year-old child.

“My surprises.” Baekhyun winks at Sungjin. One of the orphanage employees takes the box, thanking Baekhyun and going into the white building. “Now, who is ready!”

Children scream and jump with anticipation, following Baekhyun to the class like ducklings, and Baekhyun’s routine for the weekend begins with peals of laughter, cute faces, and pure souls.

After circle time and many games, Baekhyun is climbing ladders, a daisy in his jacket's pocket. His sneakers squeak on the wood, frayed floor as he is heading to the small room.

A thin, high-pitched voice cheers when Baekhyun crouches down in the middle of the room.

“Hyunnie!”

"Naeunnie!" Baekhyun answers back in the same way and opens his arm for the five-year-old girl.

Naeun runs into Baekhyun's arm, her eyes shine happily to see her favorite person in the world. “How is my angel now?” He kisses the crown of her head. “I heard you were resting here.”

Naeun pulls away and nods, her braided hair bouncing slightly. "I am fine. But my arm hurts." Baekhyun watches her tiny hands as she pulls the long-sleeved t-shirt up to his elbow. "Look, it's purple."

Baekhyun holds his breath, biting his tongue for not crying and palming her hands. "Do you want another hug?" He offers and Naeun nods again, this time with a pout. The smell of the powder and roses is enough to subvert Baekhyun's pretense, closing his eyes with pain.

This beautiful girl is diagnosed with having leukemia, and it numbers her days as the disease spreads rapidly. Everyone wants to save her from this ticking time bomb, but Naeun’s body is too weak for any cure.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” Naeun’s fingers brush the nape of Baekhyun’s necks. “What happened to your hair, Hyunnie?”

“I became a strawberry prince for you.” Baekhyun’s eyes become watery. “You said you love strawberries more than anything in this world.”

“True.” Naeun puts her head on Baekhyun’s collarbone, placing her palm on Baekhyun’s heart. “I really love strawberries. And you.”

“Me?” 

“I love strawberries and you so so much, more than anything in this world, Hyunnie.”

“Really?” A tear from Baekhyun’s hair drops to Naeun’s hair. “Me too, Naeunnie. Me, too.” He doesn’t want bitterness to creep into his voice. “Did you like it?” Baekhyun hints at his hair color.

“I love it.” Naeun raises her head, looking into Baekhyun's eyes. “Thank you, Hyunnie.”

“Anything for my little angel.”

“Hyunnie?” Naeun’s thumbs sweep Baekhyun’s cheek. “Are you crying?”

“No.” Baekhyun laughs. “I am allergic to flowers.” He shows the daisy that is poking out of his pocket. “Ta ta!”

“Daisy!” She bursts out with glee. “Is it for me?” 

“Hmmm.” Baekhyun draws back and squeezes the flower behind her ear. “You can use it like this.”

“This is second.” Upon Baekhyun’s puzzlement, Naeun explains. “You are the second person who gives me flowers today.”

“Who was the first person?”

“Mommy.” A chest-swelling pain takes his breath away when Naeun utters. “Last night she gave me white flowers. She said we would be together soon too.”

“I see.” Baekhyun has a simple smile that looks a little strained if someone pays enough attention. “Do you miss your mommy?” He questions with an effort that nearly saps his strength.

“Yeah, I miss her.” She knits her eyebrows, putting her hand on Baekhyun's cheeks. “But if mommy and I meet, I will miss you too.”

“I can come too.” 

“No, Hyunnie. You can’t.” Naeun chuckles. “Only angels can go to heaven. You call me ‘my little angel’ all the time and you are a prince. Your duty is staying in your kingdom.”

“But what if I want to come with you?”

She gives a thought to the offer. “I have to ask mommy then.” Her pink lips move away from each other to form a melodious laugh, and Baekhyun duplicates her, treating the images of Naeun in his heart.

* * *

Baekhyun finds the folded cardboard boxes in the bedroom.

“I used them when I was moving in here.” He casts his mind to the first day in this house. “It was an act. Clothes, books… Temporary materials for a temporary life.”

Baekhyun packs his belongings instead of Sehun’s. He doesn’t care about the wills, last wishes, and desecration. “If I go, maybe he can come back.” He huddles with himself, sellotaping the boxes. “He tries to stop me first though.” The tape falls from his hand to the ground, rolling to somewhere in the room. “He would.”

_I would._

Baekhyun swears Sehun is in this room, talking to him. His fingertips skim his tattoo, refraining to touch the leaves.

Bygone days, loss, and oblivion.

“The only story Sehun doesn’t know about me.” 

* * *

“Ah, fuck it!” Sehun mutters under his breaths, irritated. His mind races in wild circles behind the filtered glasses, his eyes scan every mimic of the suspect. “I’m going to go in.”

“Go and I will call the chief.” Kyungsoo threats, unswayed from Sehun’s yelling and cursing. He does not know why Sehun is acting like this. “Baekhyun is managing very well.”

Sehun grunts. For two months, they have been trying to solve this case, and now, Byun Baekhyun is in the interrogation room with the suspect.

“Why does everyone think he is a superhero or something?”

“He is good at reading people, Sehun.” Kyungsoo says in a deadpan voice. “How old are you? Five? Seriously, man up.”

Reading people inside out is a natural and irrepressible outcome to Baekhyun. It receives a mixed reaction from his other colleagues, scaring or influencing most of them.

And Oh Sehun is neither in the first group nor the second group.

“That guy is innocent.” Sehun is going round the bend. Whenever he hears Baekhyun’s abilities, he wants to tear everything apart, taking his frustration out. Sehun never accepts this so-called ability can be real, so he bides his time to bust Baekhyun’s reputation. “We are wasting our time.” 

“Sehun, please.” Kyungsoo emits a long breath. “If you’re not pleased, you can go to the chief.”

How could people respect a lie? Sehun can’t believe it. Since when lies turned into lucky coincidences, and why is everyone so blind? “You think I didn’t, hyung? Trust me, I did. But all of you are running after a damn hypocrite-”

“Kyungsoo, that’s alright.” 

Nobody catches the sound of the door when Kyungsoo jumps in fright, hearing Baekhyun's voice.

“I might be a damn hypocrite, but I am telling the truth.” Baekhyun promises. “He is the killer.”

Sehun grins, and it is the last stroke for Baekhyun.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Baekhyun’s voice is baleful.

Sehun’s maniacal laughter explodes like a pistol shot, and he throws his head back. “My God…” He calms down, leaning against the wall for support. “Let’s go back to the basics, Byun Baekhyun. All the evidence we gather points out that he is innocent and you’re expecting us to believe your bullshit?!”

“Guys!” Yixing dashes into the interrogation room, pausing the tension. “I got the warrant of arrest.” Kyungsoo hides his smirk when a change comes over Sehun’s face. “I can’t believe we got the killer.”

Before Yixing finishes, Sehun screams and bangs the door behind him when he exits from the room.

"Did I miss something?"

"Arrest the guy." Kyungsoo's instruction wins an admiring laugh from Baekhyun as Kyungsoo blinks sheepishly, a gummy smile changing his formal face into a sincere one.

*

“Wait, they found the killer and arrested?”

“Yes, they did.” Two rookies talk in the man’s toilet, one of them washing his hands. “Do you know what has happened so far?”

“I know a family is missing.” The short, young man stands on the left side of his friend.

“Yeah. Jeong Doyun, the husband. Kang Kyunghee, the wife, and Jeong Siwoo, the son.” His friend narrates. “Their missing has been reported by the wife’s brother, Kang Sunghoon, who can’t contact his sister for a while. He suspects something is wrong and calls the police. Kang always talks to his sister on the phone every day and these phone talks suddenly stop.”

“It doesn’t sound a murder case at all.”

“Until this part.” The plump guy corrects, drying his hands. “Kang Sunghoon flies from England to here. He goes to the family’s house and asks the neighbors where the family is. But everyone says the family went abroad altogether.” He fixes his hair, eyes on the mirror. “Kang realizes the door of the house isn’t unlocked and… When he looks at the house, the traces of the family are everywhere. Toys, feeding bottles, cooked food on the stove…” 

“Holy crap.”

“Sunghoon gets more suspicious after he finds their family Bible in the house and convinces the police for a full investigation.” The plump guy turns to his friend. “Until two days ago, there were two suspects. Park Joon and Yoon Youngjae.” He takes a deep breath. “Park Joon is the last person who sees Jeong Doyun and an employee. Joon states he only met Doyun when Doyun gave him the signed paper. A letter explains that the company has been sold a guy named Yoon Youngjae and Doyun is going abroad with his family.” 

“Going to another country and packing nothing? Sure, not weird.” The sarcasm is obvious in the plump man’s voice.

“When police look at Jeong Doyun’s financial records, there are some hints about tax avoidance.” 

“It seems fishy.”

“I know.”

“What about phone calls?”

“They tracked down the phones of course.” He refers to Baekhyun's team. “Before the disappearance, the last signal of Jeong Doyun’s phone has been sent from Yoon Youngjae’s garden house.” The plump guy is all ears. “The house had been searched too, but they found nothing. Until...”

“Until?”

“Until they watched the surveillance camera footage. It recorded that a digger came to the house and…”

“...Yoon Youngjae was taken under investigation.” The plump guy finishes. 

“Crime scene investigation teams dug the garden for evidence and found some hair, burnt clothes, and jewelry. When they were digging, missing Jeong Doyun’s body was found at the seaside, with a blunt trauma injury to the back of his head. And in the interrogation, Yoon Youngjae admitted he is a friend of Park Joon.”

“What a turn.”

“Indeed.”

“Park Joon’s car, home, office… They rummaged everything but there was no evidence. Park Joon negated his friendship with Yoon Youngjae, leaving Youngjae to hold the bag.” 

“I bet they did everything together.” The plump guy thinks aloud.

“According to his last statement, Yoon Youngjae just helped Park Joon to kidnap Jeong Doyun. He negotiated with police for a reduced sentence, telling the details of the murder. Yoon Youngjae's name was in the letter because it was a sham. He would get his share when Park Joon arranged the letter, transferring eleven billion won to Yoon Youngjae’s bank account."

“It’s nearly ten million dollars.” The plump guy utters and his friend hits him harshly.

“Do you think money is the most important thing in this story?” He chides. “Park Joon alleged he was innocent and Yoon Youngjae was using him to get out of this.”

“Wait, why are we still talking about Park Joon? There's no evidence-” 

“Because he is the killer.”

“What?!”

“Byun sent someone to Youngjae’s home again today, in the morning. In the home, they found a recorder. It looks like Yoon Youngjae couldn’t trust his friend that much. The voice record is just gory. Park Joon lures the victim first, then kills the mother and son, but Yoon Youngjae doesn't know what Park Joon had done to the rest of the family.”

They don’t speak for a few seconds.

“Unbelievable.”

“Yeah.”

“Byun is something else.”

“His partner thinks he is not.” The short guy adds, walking to the door. Before he spills the tea, one of the toilet cubicle doors slams to the wall.

“S-Sunbae-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Sehun cuts in as the rookies tremble with fear. He has been in the cubicle all along and he is revolted by the blabbing around. “Why don’t you say it to my face?

“We are so sorry, sunbae-”

“I’m going to report you.” Sehun eyes on the nametags. “Officer Han and Officer Im.”

“Sunbae, please forgive us-”

“Hello everyone.”

Junmyeon greets with a knowing smile on his lips. “If you are going to tattle, don’t do it here at least.” Shooing away the rookies, Junmyeon raises an eyebrow at Sehun.

“What is it now, hyung?” Sehun asks, browned off. 

“The chief wants to talk to you.” Junmyeon discloses, a solemn expression on his face.

“I screwed up, didn’t I?” Sehun runs his finger through his hair, wishing to yawp here and there.

“Yes, and no.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Go to the chief’s room first.” Junmyeon doesn’t give away much and Sehun does what he has been told, coming out of the chief's office topsy-turvy.

He has been informed that Baekhyun has resigned, and he will leave next week.

“It’s not because of me, right?” He tries to induce himself. “No, it can’t be.”

Sehun wants to laugh and cry.

The news comes like a bombshell in the building, keeping the rumor mill churning for a while. Many assumptions and fabulation fly around, turning the situation into a mess. Other members are disappointed in Sehun and downcast about Baekhyun’s quitting. Baekhyun completes his paperwork and keeps the interaction with Sehun as much as possible. He helps Kyungsoo with decoding, talks to Yixing in Chinese, and discusses with Junmyeon the theory books they read together, leaving gratefulness to his team.

On Friday, Junmyeon crosses Sehun’s path, frowning darkly at him. 

“Tomorrow. Church visit. Eight a.m.” Junmyeon rarely gives an ultimatum and Sehun thinks he has no right to object.

“Okay. I’ll pick you up.”

Junmyeon hums and Sehun hops in his car, inserting the key in the ignition and hearing a rich roar from his classic Chevrolet Camaro. Putting his foot on the clutch, he moves the gear shift and checks the mirrors. Giving a signal, a foot on the gas pedal, he turns the car to the road when one hand is on the steering wheel and his other hand is fumbling to fasten his belt. 

Oh Sehun drives with his jumbled feelings and thoughts whirl around Baekhyun, who is his ex-partner and a closed book he can never read.

“Who are you, Byun Baekhyun?”

On the passenger seat, photocopies and cut photos flit when the wind oozes from the ajar window. Newspaper clippings, birth certificates, and yearbook pages.

Alexo Athanasiou

Bastien Blanchard

Bian Buoxian

Byun Baekhyun

Divergent names, countries, and languages, but the same face.

Slightly long and oval features with a fair complex, naturally shaped eyebrows, down-turned eyes, a semi-high nose, moles, and thin lips.

A renewed, antique vase that is on display in an antique store.

As he probes more into the archives, his capacity to maintain his sanity dwindles until it fades completely away, striking a trepidation.

Baekhyun is a well-placed mole.

Sehun’s plan for the week is revealing Baekhyun’s identity and manifesting his judgment, but...

“I have to bird-dog him until he leaves.” Engaging himself in a private speech, he leans forward. “I need more evidence. I can’t make a fool of myself.”

It’s the only time Sehun gets wrong about Baekhyun, gulping down all his spite and the poison inside him.

And it’s the only time he acknowledges his growing feelings for Baekhyun reluctantly under a new light.

“Why are we here?” Sehun comments when Junmyeon gets out of his car. The orphanage right beside the church is still detestable, hideous, and dark, just like Sehun's mournings over the wreckage of the household he once had.

This building is nothing but a reminder of his inexcusable sin. 

“Because you need to know the truth.” Junmyeon spits feathers, feeling tired after his last conversation with Baekhyun. “Follow me.”

Junmyeon brings Sehun to the infirmary. Sehun says nothing at first, staying rooted to the spot, and Junmyeon squats beside the bed, stroking the sleeping little girl’s hair.

“Why…” Sehun’s voice trembles. “Why is she here?”

Junmyeon makes sure the girl is still asleep. “She has leukemia.” He replies, whispering. “She can’t take chemotherapy because her body is too weak to handle it.”

“No.” Sehun denies. “No, it can’t be.”

Junmyeon drags him to the corridor. “Look at me, you dunderhead.” Grabbing Sehun’s collar, he hisses. “I know you lost everyone. Your family, friends, and entire clan.” Sehun almost trips when Junmyeon drops his grip, grinding his teeth. “You’re too late for confessing your sins, but she’s the only member of your family. Be with her.” 

“Do you think it’s that easy?” Sehun explodes. “Hi little girl, I am your uncle and I left you here because I am a monster who can’t even take care of myself. Ah, I can’t take care of you either and you don’t deserve my monstrosity.”

“She has a name.” Junmyeon growls.

“A name was given by my brother to her.” Their velitation leafs through the red and black pages of the past, gashing the bleeding hearts deeply. 

A usual ending of a crime memoir.

Both men snap back when a thick and smooth voice vacillates.

“What are you doing here?” Upon Baekhyun’s blurt, they turn their heads to him. “Junmyeon?”

“Hi Baekhyun. I dropped a few books for Sister Ahn.” Junmyeon makes up an excuse. “Unfortunately, my car is still in repair-shop and we made a bet.” He motions his hand to Sehun. “He lost it. Now he's my slave for the weekend.”

“It seems like a lucrative agreement.” Baekhyun giggles. 

“I can’t say I am complaining.” Brushing off, Junmyeon recalls. “How was the circle time?”

“We had lots of fun.” Baekhyun chirps. “Excuse me, I have to go to my little angel now.”

Before Sehun, Junmyeon quizzes. “Your little angel?”

“Yeah, Naeun.” Baekhyun’s ecstatic smile muddles Sehun. “I am her guardian now.”

“Congratulations.” Junmyeon’s sincere wish warms Baekhyun’s soul.

“Thanks.” Baekhyun passes by them. “She must be awake now.” Three men witness Naeun’s awakening in front of the open door, her jingling laughter quickens their heartbeats.

“Hyunnie!”

“Naeunnie!”

Naeun throws herself at Baekhyun. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, my angel.” Baekhyun catches her, putting his cheek on her temple. “Come, we are going.”

“Huh?” Naeun leans backward, watching Baekhyun's face with confusion. “Where?”

“To my house.”

“Your house?”

Baekhyun nods. “My house. We have to pack your things first.”

Packing means one thing in the orphanage. 

“Are you going to be my daddy?” Elation and her tears cause a tremble in her voice. 

“If you want to, yes.” Baekhyun confirms, blinking rapidly to order away his tears.

“Can you be my daddy and Hyunnie at the same time?" Her cute request makes Baekhyun laugh and cry.

"Of course, my angel.”

“Thank you, Hyunnie!” 

Naeun jumps into his arms one more time when Baekhyun holds her, crying noiselessly, and outside of the room, Junmyeon sheds his tears when Sehun bits his hand, whimpering with sadness and guilt.

* * *

They leave the orphanage hushedly, Naeun's belongings are in a small box and Naeun doesn't want to say goodbye to anyone, holding Baekhyun's hands tightly and never looking back. Baekhyun helps her to get in his car, driving them to the shopping center. They buy many things for her -including a child seat- and Naeun can't believe her eyes.

"Can you really carry those bags, Hyunnie?"

"They're not that heavy, my angel." Baekhyun assures. "Don't let go of my hand, okay?"

"Okay."

Baekhyun puts the paper bags into the trunk, then installs the child seat he bought for Naeun. He makes sure Naeun sits there safely as they go to their house, giggling and chatting. The rest of the evening in the house passes with unpacking, washing Naeun’s new clothes, and arranging the bedroom. After, Baekhyun bathes Naeun and prepares dinner. 

“Are you full now?” Baekhyun asks, standing up from his chair. He clears the table when Naeun eats her bibimbap cutely.

“Hmmm.” Naeun nods, mouth full of food. Gulping down her bite, she answers. “I am full now, thank you Hyunnie.”

She still can’t believe she is not in the orphanage. When she saw him for the first time, she couldn’t help but wish for a father like him and now, her Hyunnie is her father. 

“Anything for my girl.” Baekhyun kisses her hair and washes the dishes, and Naeun watches him with a hand on her cheek, lips stretching into a gladsome smile.

“Who is ready for bedtime?” Baekhyun asks, finishing the chore. He looks from the corner of his eyes as Naeun yawns, her eyes dropping with fatigue. “Let’s get you dressed, my angel.” He takes Naeun on his lap, carrying her into his room with careful steps. In the bedroom, he dresses Naeun in pajamas and lays her down in the bed.

“I’ll be back, okay? Hyunnie needs his pajamas too.” Naeun doesn’t object to his words. Grabbing his pajamas from his wardrobe, Baekhyun changes his clothes in the bathroom.

When Baekhyun comes to bed, Naeun snuggles to Baekhyun. “You won’t go in the morning, will you Hyunnie?”

“Never.” Baekhyun pulls her onto his chest. “I won’t go anywhere, my angel.”

“I’m glad.”

Baekhyun smiles, pulling the thin-bed cover over them. “Good night, Naeun.” 

“Good night, daddy.”

Baekhyun bites his lips, letting his tears wet his pillowcase and focusing on Naeun’s warmth instead of the upcoming, empty hollow.

*

Naeun becomes the sun of Baekhyun’s life.

Like a bright yellow star, her gravity holds everything in Baekhyun’s system together. Every emotion and action of Baekhyun revolves around Naeun, giving him the responsibility and delight he never had. She is the source of their routine’s energy; her free laughter drives their days, emotional currents, and auroras. There are bigger and larger stars in the galaxy, but she is the brightest in Baekhyun’s galaxy.

And like all the stars, she will be consumed away.

After their many doctor appointments and hospital visits, everything comes to the same thing. At that point, her metastatic leukemia is traveling and forming some tumors in the distant parts of her body.

There are available treatment options, but doctors are not sure how those treatments will combat her disease. And her body is too weak to handle any of them. Her health records had proved that she was malnourished when she was a baby. Many illnesses affected her body and weakened her immune system. The most staggering part is that they say Naeun has a year to live without treatment. There is nothing to do to save Naeun from her death.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

They are in an ice cream parlor, sitting side to side, and Naeun licks her favorite strawberry ice cream when Baekhyun watches her.

“Am I sick?”

“Sort of, my angel.” Baekhyun kisses her. “When I was visiting you in the infirmary, you had purple bruises.”

Naeun drops her ice cream cone, nuzzling into his chest. “I don’t want to go to the hospital again.”

“Why?”

“Because it smells ugly.” Naeun speaks, her hands pinching Baekhyun’s cheek. “And doctors are so boring.”

“Really? I think doctors are so smart.” Baekhyun speaks, his lips puckering because of Naeun’s hands. “Don’t you like them?” 

“They took me away from you.” Naeun's mumbling softens Baekhyun’s face, cupping her face in his hands.

“Nobody can take you away from me, Naeun.” 

“Even mommy?”

“Your mother?” Baekhyun inquires.

“I had a dream last night.” Naeun takes a deep breath. “Mommy came to me again, and we played in a huge garden.”

“Like we did two days ago?” 

“Yes.” Naeun natters. “She asked me if I’m happy with you, and I told her I am happier when I’m with you. But she only left more white flowers for me." Baekhyun pulls his hands to himself, tasting the blood in his mouth because of biting his cheek. "I think she doesn't like you and she wants to take me away from you too." A sniff halts her words. “I don’t want to go to heaven, daddy. I want to be with you.”

“It’s okay, Naeun.” Baekhyun takes her on his lap, tears blurring his vision. “Maybe your mommy visited you in your dreams because she wanted to see you.” He falls back on convincing instead of lying. “Did she ask anything about-”

“No.” Naeun shivers. “She didn’t mention our meeting in heaven.”

"See? You don’t have to worry at all.” Baekhyun rocks her back and forth, arms circling her shoulders and humming a Greek lullaby involuntarily. He sings this lullaby whenever he feels insecure, the nostalgia of his first life soothing him. It calms Naeun too when her Hyunnie’s mellow voice dissolves the hesitation and fear in her little heart.

*

When a star similar to the sun dies, it consumes whatever is inside and burns, shrinking under the pressure of its gravity. The burning heat expands the outer layers, creating a conflict between the core and the crushing force of gravity. It causes the star to collapse and explode violently. However, such a collapsed star, at its life’s end, awaits a different fate. The spreading material of the star creates other stars and completes the other circle of life.

Excessive sweatings. Recurrent nosebleeds. High fever. Persistent fatigue. Weakness. Weight loss. Pain in the body. 

Naeun is collapsing in between her exhaustion and her new routine, like a dying star. But her condition never stops them. Baekhyun and the little girl do many things until her disease relapses. Going to amusement parks, camping in a beautiful campervan, taking a vacation by the seaside, attending many workshops in museums, art studios… 

Baekhyun is determined to make her happy until the end, and he does. Naeun never cries, sulks, or gets sad. She clings to Baekhyun like a koala and plants many kisses on his face all the time, but Baekhyun is on tenterhooks. He is not ready to say her goodbye or to bury her, placing her under the ground forever. If he lost his sun, his galaxy will evanesce into vague darkness. 

“Daddy…” Naeun calls Baekhyun, and it takes everything in Baekhyun not to break down. In the bed, they hug each other as usual when Naeun prefers to hear his voice instead of talking. 

“Yes, my angel?”

“I love you.” Naeun says softly, her eyes closing as the movement of Baekhyun’s finger smooth her hair. 

“I love you too, Naeun.” Baekhyun whispers, his sobs knotting his chest, and he bids his farewell to his daughter unknowingly.

*

On Saturday, the last day of the week, Baekhyun lets Naeun sleep a little longer, knowing her energy is not that much as before. He prepares Naeun’s favorite breakfast in the kitchen, humming and slightly smiling.

Placing the pancakes and juice on a tray, Baekhyun walks to the bedroom. His plan for this morning is to eat breakfast in bed with Naeun and taking her to the playground. Putting the tray on the corner of the bed, he tries to wake her up.

“Naeunnie…” He whispers. “Wake up angel, I prepared breakfast.”

Naeun doesn’t stir, and Baekhyun smiles bitterly. Naeun sleeps heavily for a while now, feeling tired and wrapping herself into blankets. 

“Your breakfast will become cold if you don’t wake up.” Baekhyun tries again, touching her cheek with a sense of foreboding. 

“Naeun?” Baekhyun freezes, his voice foreign to his voice.

“Angel?”

Naeun never responds.

Pain fills up Baekhyun’s heart as he pulls Naeun’s body in his arms, his fingers brushing her hair.

“My beautiful daughter…” Her skin is awfully white and so cold against his skin, a serene look on her face and her lips slightly curved into a smile. “I am so sorry, my angel.” Baekhyun cries harder. "My angel. My beautiful angel…”

*

The service is carried out at the church. Naeun has no friends and relatives, so Baekhyun is the only one in the nave. He never bothers to call the orphanage, partly blaming them and being selfish at the same time. A misery claws his feelings, empty chairs of the church follow hard after his bereavement. The priest sprinkles holy water over the coffin, reading a passage from the book when Baekhyun’s eyes are on the coffin.

The rectangle box that Naeun will rest in her eternal journey.

The coffin is lifted after the ceremony and carried by two powerful men to the graveside. They lower the coffin into the grave with straps as Baekhyun stands behind the gravestone, dropping his daisies onto the wood box.

Flowers, the box, and Naeun.

Everything stays inside of a pit, covered with soil in a few minutes and Baekhyun can’t hold his tears back anymore. His joints, muscles, and body hurt, reading the epitaph of the gravestone.

_Lee Naeun_

_2020-2015_

_A Lifetime of Laughter and Love_

“I-Is... She really gone?”

“I am sorry for your loss, son.” The priest tries to comfort Baekhyun.

“Can’t she… Come back to me?” The man’s sympathetic eyes make his heart bleed more. “Can’t you… Help me?” 

“I wish I can.” 

The wet soil stains Baekhyun’s trousers as he falls to his knees, a thunder rumbles above his head. Clouds and sky change, enshrouding the golden color of sunshine, and Baekhyun soaks under the rain, on his knees, when everything blurs into a whirring noise.

A pair of hands raise Baekhyun up as Baekhyun wipes the raindrops with the back of his hands.

“I am deeply sorry you have to go through a heartbreak like this.” Sehun sincerely offers his condolences. He has been checking Baekhyun and his niece from afar, protecting them from the enemies of his past. They are aware of his niece’s existence and stalk Baekhyun, sending a coherent message to Sehun.

They want revenge and have no intention to stop.

As soon as he receives the news, he abandons his work and comes to the church. But for the moment, Sehun forgets everything. Time rolls back; Baekhyun is smiling, his red hair standing out the most. Now, Baekhyun suffers; his boxy smile is not there. Unaware of his surroundings, Sehun’s mind finally accepts that Naeun is gone.

The only member of his family is gone, and he is alone in this world. 

“It’s always the heartbreak.” Baekhyun imparts as he hangs his head. “It’s always saying goodbye.”

Naeun, her little daughter is gone and she can't come back. She can't greet him with her laughter and her shiny eyes anymore.

She is under that damn soil now and nobody brings her back.

“It’s not a goodbye.” Sehun restates. “She will always be with you.” Upon the sudden comforting, Baekhyun fixates Sehun with an emotionless gaze. When he is about to protest, his ears perk up at a rustle. He finds the source, looking at the bushes behind Sehun.

A gun tube shines, targeting them.

“Sehun-”

“Baekhyun, please-”

Gunshot bangs in the harsh rain, both of them startle as the whizzing bullet is on its way to the target when Baekhyun jumps on Sehun.

“No!”

A red hue grows on Baekhyun’s chest while the bullet pierces through his chest and goes out from his back.

“Baekhyun!”

The images suddenly break, a thick, dark cover curtains Baekhyun’s eyes when he faints. Sehun catches him, clasping Baekhyun in his arms and rushing him to the nearest hospital.

*

In the hospital room, Sehun holds Baekhyun’s hand. He can’t believe what had happened hours ago.

“Why did you save me?” He speaks in a hushed tone. “Why?”

Baekhyun sleeps while an IV bag is suspended by an elevated stand next to him, filling Baekhyun’s veins with the solution. The flow of solution slows down, shadowing out Baekhyun’s awakening, and Sehun sees Baekhyun’s eyes open wide in surprise and recognition.

“I will call the doctor.” Sehun springs from the chair when a relief crashes over him. “Don’t move, okay?” 

Baekhyun is taken aback, seeing Sehun in the hospital room and being in a hospital room. Last time, Sehun had declared he hated Baekhyun and Baekhyun is too tired to think of a solid reason now. He remembers the funeral, Sehun’s arrival and…

“Bullet.”

In less than no time, Sehun walks back to the room, a doctor coming behind him.

“Welcome back, Mr. Byun.” The doctor beams. “I have to admit; I was hopeless in the operating theatre.” Hearing the doctor's confession, Sehun lets out a shuddering breath. “Lots of blood loss and the bullet…” He explains many things related to his condition but Baekhyun can’t lend an ear, desiring to get out of the hospital as soon as possible.

“Uhm…” Sehun clears his throat. “I apologize for interrupting, doctor, but when can he be discharged?” He knows Baekhyun is uncomfortable at the moment. 

“Tomorrow morning.” The doctor informs them. “If anything happens, just let us know, okay?”

“Thank you.”

Until the doctor leaves, neither Sehun nor Baekhyun had the nerve to vocalize their minds. Sehun’s chest jams with guilt and remorse when Baekhyun is lost in sensations, cursing himself. How can he be so reckless? He can’t die. He can’t be in a damn hospital. Why did he act like a hero, jumping on Sehun and saving him from death?

“Are you…” Sehun’s voice gets Baekhyun back to the moment. “How do you feel?”

“I am… Fine.” Baekhyun answers quickly in a raspy voice. He is not okay, and neither is Sehun. A look of vulnerability and weariness contours Sehun's appearance. His skin is pale, his cheeks are sunken and...

Sehun’s eyes.

They answer Baekhyun’s questions he asked himself a few seconds ago while dread and realization swipe his heart.

I care about him.

Sehun draws near to the hospital bed, his posture changing with determination when he sits down and stretches out a hand to Baekhyun’s face. His fingertips trace Baekhyun’s lips as Baekhyun is fragile china. Parting his lips, Baekhyun tries to breathe when the faces flash in his mind.

Cassandra, Chanyeol, Naeun and Sehun.

Everything becomes turbid as unshed tears burn Baekhyun's eyes. 

Since the day they met, there is a thick line that mustn't cross. Sehun had proclaimed it long ago, being adamant about it, but this change frightens Baekhyun.

“Get your hands off me.” 

“Am I that horrible?” Sehun seems hurt, and Baekhyun’s tears run down his eyes. “You saved me almost six hours ago and now, you are shivering.”

Baekhyun owns an explanation to Sehun, but explaining his side only routs Sehun more. Letting Sehun speak his mind, Baekhyun presses his lips into a line as Sehun contemplates Baekhyun’s gestures. 

“I know we didn’t start well. Fuck, I was an ass to you. But you saved me. If you didn’t jump, I… I would be dead, Baekhyun.” Sehun’s breath hitches. “Do you hate me that much?” 

“No.” Baekhyun says in a plain voice. “No, I… I don’t hate you.”

Sehun’s desperation makes his shoulders tight. “Am I scaring you then?”

“Even if I give you an honest answer, you won’t believe it.”

After Baekhyun’s dismal explanation, Sehun divulges. “Try me.”

Baekhyun's laugh is bitter. "You shouldn't be around me."

"What a cliché for a mole.” Sehun comments alludingly. “Byun Baekhyun. Bian Buoxian. Or should I address you Alexo Athanasiou?”

Baekhyun's clammy hands grab the sheets, his face turning ashen. He gasps as if he is ineffable pain, and Sehun has a sinking feeling, hollers “Nurse!” just before Baekhyun shakes uncontrollably in the bed and faints.

"Nurse!"

The nurse comes into the room, registering the condition. “Panic attack.” She chides Sehun, sedating Baekhyun with a benzodiazepine. “This will relax him for a while. Poor guy, he looks like he had been through a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“His body.” Her face poses distress. “Gunshot wounds, knife cuts, scorches… May God keeps him safe." Crossing herself, she turns to Sehun. "I will be back in an hour. If you need something, holler again."

Baekhyun dozes off, the effect showing itself as a physical act, and the nurse leaves when Sehun sinks onto the chair, watching Baekhyun’s face with remordency.

*

Baekhyun is discharged from the hospital after he wakes up. Sehun waits for Baekhyun in front of the hospital, holding a flower bouquet in his hands.

“Don’t be freaked out.” Sehun’s reassurance doesn’t make Baekhyun happy. “These are for Naeun.”

Baekhyun’s breath hitches in his chest. 

“And I am sorry.”

“Why are you here, Oh Sehun?” Walking down from the stairs, Baekhyun deliberates on Sehun’s intention.

“For atoning my faults.” They come face to face, and Sehun gives the flowers to Baekhyun. “I have to come clean with you about my actual identity.”

“I apologize but I don’t understand at all.” 

“It’s also related to Naeun.” Getting muddle up, Baekhyun gives up speaking and takes the flowers. “I will do my duty properly this time.” Sehun points out his car.

“Duty?” 

“My duty as an uncle.” Sehun says, going to his car and shock is an understatement for what Baekhyun feels. He needs decent answers instead of Sehun’s abstruse sentences, so he walks behind Sehun unwillingly as the question marks grow inside of his head.

When they arrive at the graveyard, Sehun takes out a steel vest under his seat. “Wear this. They might follow us.”

Baekhyun inhales but doesn’t object. As he wears the steel vest, Sehun gets the flowers from Baekhyun’s lap, and ten minutes pass. Eventually, Sehun returns and gets in the driver's seat. “I will take you to your home.”

“No.” Baekhyun argues. “No, I… I don’t want to go there.” He is not ready to face the memories of Naeun. Each corner of the house hides their ephemera, and her absence polishes the fact that Baekhyun had ignored.

There is no happy ending for him. 

“If you say so.” Sehun starts the car when Baekhyun looks at the cemetery for the last time. When they take the road, Sehun decides he shouldn’t beat around the bush.

“Have you ever heard Oh Clan?”

“One of the biggest crime families of Seoul." Baekhyun quotes absentmindedly. "Ten years ago, all the members vanished and…" Turning his head to Sehun, Baekhyun looks as though he has seen a ghost. "Are you one of them?"

Sehun makes a weird sound, amused by Baekhyun’s reaction.

"But it’s impossible!" Baekhyun shouts. "Years ago-”

“The whole clan was ambushed, yes." Sehun focuses on driving. "Only Naeun and I survived. She… She was my stepbrother’s daughter.” Past tense pinches Baekhyun’s heart, whispering the longing of her daughter’s laughter into Baekhyun’s mind reverently. “I dropped Naeun to the orphanage because I knew a monster like me couldn’t take care of her.”

Strangling Sehun is an appealing thought at that moment, Baekhyun's fingers itches but punishing or killing Sehun is pointless because he was in Sehun's shoes centuries ago.

He had lost his beloved ones, and he almost had gone mad after Chanyeol and Cassandra.

“I am the reason that they got killed. If I patrolled the area…” Sehun’s loud breathing snaps in the silence of his car. “When you said you would be her guardian, I felt… Happy.” It petrifies Baekhyun as the abrupt avowal tumbles down between them. "You gave her a home, a family. I couldn’t give any of these to her.”

“Because you are a monster?” Baekhyun can't help but mock Sehun.

"I deserve more than mocking." Sehun admits. "But… I lost everything that night. My son, Baekhyun.” The roar of the engine gets louder as Sehun speeds up. “He… He was three years old and Naeun loved to play with him.”

“I… I am sorry for your loss.”

“You are the only person who sends the condolences to my family.” Sehun states, a ghost smile on his lips. “Thank you.” His voice hides an uncertain agony. “I hope they can be at peace.”

The car ride continues with procrastination and absorbing the spoken words. When they get closer to Baekhyun’s place, Sehun raises the topic that he has avoided.

“Now, you know everything about me.”

“Not everything.” Baekhyun corrects.

Sehun takes a turn on the road. “Are you a mole?”

“If you want to call it like that, yes.”

Sehun doesn’t like Baekhyun’s vague lines. “That’s not fair, Byun.”

“You will laugh at me.” Baekhyun huffs. “Fine.” Deciding to beat Sehun in Sehun’s game, he drops the bombshell. “I can’t die or age. I am immortal.” 

Sehun slams his foot on the brake, and the sudden impact throws Baekhyun away. 

“Shit.” Sehun unbuckles his seatbelt. “Are you okay?” I am an idiot, he thinks. Baekhyun is just discharged from the hospital and now…

“I am okay.” Baekhyun says, feeling Sehun’s hands on his face. The satisfaction of beating Sehun vanishes as he witnesses Sehun’s panic. “It happened because of me.”

“We should go back to the hospital-”

“There is no need for that.” Baekhyun informs him. “If I get hurt physically, I will heal fast.” Confusion is written all over Sehun’s face after the panic. “I know it sounds ridiculous. But you saw the photos. The documents.” Baekhyun plays with his fingers, fleshing his curse out with reservation. “I lived in many countries, learned many cultures, and spoke many languages. I witnessed many things too. Like you.”

Sehun fastens their seatbelts, thinking about his guesses and Baekhyun’s explanation. “How am I supposed to know-”

“That I am telling the truth?” Baekhyun completes his sentence. “I don’t want to lie anymore. And… You are the first person that finds out my secret. It looks like we’re equal about that.” Sehun’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Can you take me to my house?”

“I thought you didn’t want to go there.”

“I have to now.”

“No, you don’t.” Sehun offers and Baekhyun knits his eyebrows. “You can stay with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Baekhyun is not offended. Or mad. He is used to being alone and losing everyone around him. Behind the offer, there is understanding and empathy. Two things that Baekhyun never expects from mortals, especially from Sehun.

“I never had a chance to know her.” Sehun concedes. “You can tell your stories with her to me and…”

“And?”

“You are not alone in this world. We bereaved are not alone.”

* * *

Sehun is right.

They are not alone.

In the beginning, they share the bereavement. Then Naeun’s memories and a daily routine go after it, forming an invisible bond between them.

Baekhyun stays for two weeks in Sehun’s place. As an early bird, he rises from the small bed -an old habit of a police officer- in Sehun’s home around six, preparing breakfast for Sehun and reading his books in the living room. It amazes Sehun how regular Baekhyun is. He finds his breakfast on the kitchen table every morning until Baekhyun’s departure. After the perfect breakfast, Sehun goes to work and his teammates always mention or reminisce about their former members. As the leader, Junmyeon sets other’s minds at rest, informing them about Baekhyun. 

And this is not the only thing Junmyeon does.

“You look…” Junmyeon hesitates. 

“I look what?” Sehun says, deadpan. 

“You are not grumpy anymore.” Upon Junmyeon’s blurt Kyungsoo guffaws and Yixing cackles. 

“Hyung, really now?” Sehun protests. Junmyeon smiles bashfully, happiness touching his soul. He also realizes the changes in Sehun’s habits. For example, he doesn’t bring his strong coffee with him; the dark circles under his eye slowly reduce and something shines in his gaze.

“I don’t know what heals you, Sehun, but I hope you won’t lose that chance too.” Junmyeon prays for the youngest member, wishing nothing but the best of him.

Fourteen days.

For fourteen days, no nightmares, no illusions, and no internal monologues.

For Sehun, Baekhyun is a breeze in a sweltering summer. And for Baekhyun, Sehun is a sunny day in a barren winter and an optical illusion.

Sehun is frank and bold. A little brusque. He doesn’t like superficiality and pretense, the most important thing for him is the present. He is caring and this side of him also uncloaks his childish charm, but impatience is one of his definite vices.

Oh Sehun is a kaleidoscope to Baekhyun.

A majestic, ever-changing pattern of many vivid colors.

So is his house.

* * *

Baekhyun is running, dragging the boxes behind him. His phone is ringing, but he does not answer it. He storms out of Sehun's house, throwing the boxes into the dumpster one by one.

Thud.

The first box is in the dumpster.

"Come back!"

Thud.

The second box is in the dumpster.

"Stop me, please!"

_“Be brave enough to take my hand.”_

"I did!" Baekhyun bewails. "I take your hand, Sehun! You were so stubborn and I had given up!"

When Sehun asked this from him, Baekhyun never wanted to look up. But Sehun's eyes and love, this home, made him believe he could live normally.

"It was so easy." A tremor overtakes Baekhyun. "You made me fall in love with you and now, you're gone! I gave Naeun to a family, a home. But... You gave me a life, Oh Sehun."

A simple life.

Baekhyun knew what mattered and what didn't. He wanted a simple, meaningful life. A lover. A child. Warmth. Love. He wanted more of the love that his lovers had tried to give him—the love that he yearned for and abstained. 

"How am I supposed to move on? After all those things, tell me. How?"

_Sehun confessed his love in their home. After Baekhyun’s departure, Junmyeon called Baekhyun and asked him to check up on Sehun. Sehun was sick back then, and he vowed he would never go to a hospital again. For the sake of Junmyeon’s friendship, Baekhyun took care of sick Sehun, and Sehun uttered his name in his delirium._

_"Baekhyun…"_

_Putting a wet cloth on Sehun's forearm, Baekhyun drew a breath. "Shh… I am here. You have a high fever."_

_"Please don't go." Sehun murmured another thing and Baekhyun, who had taken aback to move, caught three words._

_I love you._

_This confession preyed on him but it was too late. Seeing Sehun unguarded and weak evoked something inside of Baekhyun._

_He wetted the cloth again, mouthing his thoughts and crying quietly._

_I love you too, Oh Sehun. I know I will be doomed but I love you too._

"This ivy." Baekhyun's hand is shaking as he gestures toward his neck. "My curse. They are impudent. Stultifying. Grimmer." The clump of his footsteps is the only noise when Baekhyun marches into the garden. 

Lilacs

Their blooming time is one of the shortest bloom times, and lilacs are the only flower that can stand three weeks at the beginning of spring.

_"A penny for your thoughts?"_

_Baekhyun turned around as Sehun was leaning against the wall with a smile on his lips._

_"You and I." He simply said, and Sehun took a few steps until he stood behind Baekhyun, his arms hugging the petite body._

_"Quite a couple, huh?"_

_Baekhyun closed his eyes, feeling Sehun's chest on his back as Sehun pulled him closer._

_"You can say that too."_

_"Don't think." Sehun's voice was soft. "Just… Just let me hug you." Tightening his hold, he kissed Baekhyun's hair and Baekhyun trembled. "I don't know what's on your mind but please… For a while, don't think."_

_"I love you, Oh Sehun."_

_Hearing his broken declaration, Sehun kissed Baekhyun's lips tenderly, feeling completed with his declaration._

_"I love you too, Byun Baekhyun. I love you so much."_

Magnolias

They are an ancient genus and as a symbol of longevity and perseverance, they don't grow on vines or bushes. They grow on trees and those trees can see a century. 

_"Junsoo was the most obedient boy I'd ever seen." Sehun sketched out the video that displayed a boy's image. "Back then he would ask me. ‘Dad, do I have a mom? Or papa? Some kids have two dads and that’s so cool!’ And I would deny him.” He held Baekhyun closer to his chest, pressing his lips to Baekhyun’s hair. “Holding Junsoo in my arms like this and said. ‘No, baby. I don’t want anybody but you in my life.’ “_

_With his calloused fingers, Sehun raised Baekhyun's head and looked at his eyes. “I never thought I would fall in love again. Until you, Baekhyun.”_

_Baekhyun's tears burned his eyes._

_“Do you think I can’t see the pain in your eyes, don’t you? But I see, Baekhyun. I see everything. So, please… Please put those feelings aside and stay. Stay with me at this moment. I know it hurts so much, but in the end, it’s all worth it.”_

_Sehun bared his soul to his lover, and one word whirled through Baekhyun’s mind._

_Worth._

_Knowing the truth, Sehun_ _didn’t want to run away like Baekhyun. He wanted Baekhyun to stay, and Baekhyun stayed because he loved Sehun too much to forget his curse._

And carnations.

Dianthus caryophyllus. The flower of gods. A decoration material of the ceremonial crowns in ancient times. People derived a name for it from carnis, flesh, referring to the natural color of the flower, the shades of pink.

And the main flower in Sehun’s funeral, with hyacinths and gladiolus.

_“A 32-years-old police officer was killed in a shootout.” The newsreader broke the news. There was a photograph on the right corner of the screen and everything came to a halt for Baekhyun._

_The photograph belonged to his Sehun._

_As the newsreader gave the details, the phone rang and Baekhyun answered his phone glassily._

_"Baekhyun…" Junmyeon's sobs were hysteric and bitter. "Baekhyun, Sehun is-"_

_Baekhyun ended the call, dropping his phone down from his hand to the ground._

_"The police department released camera footage from the shootout, inside of an abandoned factory. In the footage, the policeman had run out from the place, returning fire and scrambling to find a better position for himself. But before the other team's arrival, he had been mowed down by a gang and he died from the loss of blood in the scene of the crime."_

_Ambush, Baekhyun thought. It was an ambush._

_An ambush that police, gangs, and others participated in. With that, the last member of the Oh Clan was gone and the blood vengeance was over._

There was a silence in the air, bloomed flowers were still spreading their warm and welcoming smells to Baekhyun’s senses. He was standing in front of the microphone, but there was an intolerable silence at the Sehun's funeral, and the smell of the rain was fading away with tears drying on his cheek. He couldn’t help but look at the image of Sehun in a frame this time.

The photograph that reflected his smile breaks Baekhyun’s heart the most.

Yixing, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon looked at Baekhyun, and Baekhyun spoke, giving his eulogy.

“We are assembled here today and I stand to pay my respect to a wonderful man, a kind heart, and a brilliant mind — one of the most precious people in my life.”

Everyone listened to Baekhyun, wiping their tears and swallowing their misery for a moment.

“Oh Sehun. Our beloved comrade gave his life to protect us, the order, and now, his death will take its place in a new life.”

Lies. A bunch of nonsense and the most anguished act Baekhyun had ever portrayed. But it had to be done. They had to move on.

“He never felt this sacrifice of his would be vain and this action is too honorable and profound to debate.” Baekhyun choked on his tears, taking a deep breath. “As a friend of mine, I can only say this: All the people I have encountered so far, his soul and heart were the most irreproachable. Thank you.”

“I love you.” Baekhyun remembered Sehun’s words, his spirit was so heavy with sorrow.

“I love you so much. And if I die, then I’ll be happy, because at least I knew you loved me.”

"I love you too." Baekhyun said, his fingertips touching the cold frame of the photograph. "Take care of you and my angel.”

* * *

Baekhyun sweeps, his footsteps echoing like sharp cannon shots in the house, but near to the door, he stops walking.

“Hello mate.”

The realization sends a surge of perplexity through him as he stands in front of the door.

His ghosts never speak.

The man crosses his arms over his chest—waiting for the moment and Baekhyun turns around, fear eating him like acid.

“Jongdae?”

“Actually…” Jongdae’s features change into a familiar face. “I prefer my actual name.”

“Apollo.”

Gods never change, Baekhyun admits to himself bitterly. They like to watch, pull pranks, and… They love to play games with their extraordinary powers and do what they want.

“Ah, still proud and stubborn.” Apollo provokes, seeing the rage and disgust in Baekhyun’s eyes. “But…” He drawls, studying Baekhyun’s reaction. “I will put an end to all of it.” 

God’s implication is unclear for a second to Baekhyun. “What is this supposed to mean?”

“Your punishment, Alexo.” Apollo searches for a sign of surprise, but Baekhyun is just livid. “It’s over.”

“No.” Baekhyun denies.

“You are not an immortal anymore.” Apollo continues and finds the reactions of the man in exile quite amusing. “With a snap…” Raising his hand, a derisive smile curls Apollo’s lips upwards and hardens Baekhyun’s face. “It will be-” 

“No!” Baekhyun objects. “No, I don’t believe you.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes and teetering. “Your conceit took Cassandra away from me! Your curse killed everyone I loved! After everything, you come and you-

“Unbelievable!” Apollo interjects and laughs. “Unbelievable! You never fail to amaze me, Alexo. Tell me, what am I going to do with you?”

“I will never be free.” Baekhyun remarks. “I know you, Apollo. I know you very well.” He can’t stem the rush of dementing that flowed through him. “A cruel punisher. The most beautiful god.”

Apollo’s joy dies down as Baekhyun’s hysteria carries over curiosity to him.

“Long, golden hair, a beardless face, and a hairless body that is neither soft nor overly muscular but is in perfect proportions. But… The act of hubris can easily anger the icon of beauty. His lovers didn’t have a happy fate and even the other gods feared him, only his mother and father easily endured his presence.” Baekhyun looks at Apollo’s eyes. “Now tell me. How can I believe you?”

Both men have an audience, but they are not aware as a young woman hides in the shadows and a middle-aged man stands behind her.

Sucking her teeth, she speaks. “Poor men. My brother will never stop.” Apollo's twin sister, Artemis disapproves of his brother’s behavior and pities his victims.

"Do you want to try it?" The middle-aged man’s voice wonders, watching the interaction between the victim and God. “Maybe you can stop your brother.”

Artemis rebukes her father. "King of the Gods must be joking with me." She passes by her father, displeased and ungratified. "He is your favorite son, yet he plays with their minds."

"Artemis-"

"No, father. Save it." Artemis looks at the king. "If he asks forgiveness and Apollo sets him free, he will lose his sanity instantly. If Apollo continues to play, he will be caged in this delusion forever."

Something flashes in Zeus's eyes.

“I know the story. The daughter of King Priam of Troy, my brother, and a mere servant. A tragedy, indeed.” Disappointment is the only thing that the goddess feels. “My brother chose to be a punisher because of his ego. That servant chose to be a rebel because of an injustice. And that princess wanted to be like me, a maiden, but she died.”

Artemis breathes as the bitterness seeps in her voice.

“You are Zeus. King of the Gods and my father. He is Apollo. My brother, your son, and the God of oracles. I am Artemis. Your daughter and the Goddess of the hunt. As the gods and goddesses, we demand adherence, proper regard, and obedience. That servant was impudent, yes. But we also quarrel with each other, break the peace and harmony. Like human beings.”

Zeus can’t bring himself to speak when his daughter asks the faithful question.

"Now tell me, which one is at fault, father? Alexo or Apollo?”

**Author's Note:**

> (*) Alexo: to defend, to help; Athanasiou: immortal
> 
> (**) Bible quote


End file.
